


Let It Be

by Tiress



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU marco survives, Anal Sex, Bondage, Dubious Consent, M/M, Oral Sex, Pet Play, Sex Toys, Voyeurism, non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-09
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-04 03:33:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 35,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1076033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tiress/pseuds/Tiress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco and Jean both join the Military Police, but unluckily for Jean he catches the eye of a high ranking officer in this corrupt system.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Jean, Jean wake up.”

Jean Kirstein let out a low groan and rolled over, thoroughly cocooning himself in his sheets in an attempt to tune out the sounds of all life around him.  Unfortunately for him his comfort ended when his blanket was ruthlessly torn from his cold, sleepy body, flipping him onto his back with a startled cry.

“What the hell Marco?” Jean asked groggily, attempting to snatch his source of warmth back from the cruel grip of his smiling bunk mate.  Holy shit he was freezing, it was only a few weeks into December and the cold was already biting into his very core, even in the warm private bunks supplied to the Military Police.

“Come on Jean, it’s only our second week here, you can’t be burnt out already.” Marco said, before jauntily giving Jean a light smack on the back of the head. “Now, get up, we’ve got patrol in an hour and I for one would rather not sleep through breakfast.”

Jean let out a resigned groan, flopping back over onto his bare mattress and curling into a fetal position in an attempt to requisition some of the warmth Marco had stolen from him.  He honestly couldn’t see why his freckled roommate even bothered getting him up for patrol. Less than half of the Military Police even showed up on time, and even less than that didn't slack on their actual duties.  It just had to be like Marco to try and actually do his job, dragging a reluctant Jean along with him.

“It’s too cold.” Jean complained, voice muffled from his face being pressed firmly into his bed.  He couldn’t see Marco’s face, but he could tell by the unamused noise his companion made that his patience was wearing thin. “I just don’t see why we can’t go down to the tavern where it’s nice and warm with the rest of the Military Police on duty.”

Marco was apparently done taking Jean’s crap as his next movie was to physically drag Jean’s body to the edge of the bed and drop him heavily to the floor. Jean let out a rather undignified screech when he felt his body slip off the mattress and turned to glare angrily at Marco who had turned and began walking to the other end of their shared bunk. 

He was just about to open his mouth to let out a long slew of curse words, when he was interrupted by several pieces of fabric smacking him directly in the face.  Upon further inspection the fabric revealed itself to be his uniform, which Marco had taken to himself to haphazardly toss at Jean over his shoulder while he began to dawn his own.

“Sheesh,” Jean muttered as he began to remove his pajamas to start slipping on his tight uniform pants, “and you’re supposed to be the nicest guy in the 104th.” Marco simply responded with one of his signature, angelic smiles. Yeah, angel Jean’s ass, none of the rest of their old friends had ever had to deal with this guy in the morning.

The mess hall was as Jean had expected, mostly empty by the time that the two roommates had arrived.  At first glance one would have thought they were late, but someone who knew better would know that the thirty or so officers they saw sitting around talking lazily were the only ones who had bothered to show up for their duties on time.  He moaned to himself, he was still freezing in this blasted place, his one consolation was that his breakfast would be hot, unlike what they had received when they were trainees inside Wall Maria.

The breakfast slop he was served reminded him of why he really joined the Military Police. He had wanted to live a cushy life in the interior and with any luck his best friend would join him.  What he hadn’t counted on was his friend turning into the devils incarnate somewhere around 6 am and forcing him to do actual police work.  It wasn’t even as if they actually did much of anything, all he and Marco did was trudge up and down their assigned area together and make small talk, all while Jean lusted towards the taverns where the rest of the Military Police spent their patrol hours, drinking and basically slacking off. 

If Jean and Marco were having a particularly eventful day they would stop a pick pocket or two.  The inner walls were where the richest civilians and noblemen lived, but because everyone was so rich, the poorer folk were pretty much doomed to starve in the streets, being unable to afford to keep themselves living.  Jean felt pity the first time he had seen filthy, famished looking children huddled together at the end of an alleyway and had attempted to approach them, but all he was met with was screams from them as they ran to get away from him.  It was his best guess that the Military Police were not known for their kindness to the lower class.

Sighing he turned his attention from his thoughts back to Marco who had been chatting away with another officer who sported a bowl haircut. Marlowe, Jean had learned. He was similar to Marco in his beliefs that they should be attempting to fix the corrupted Military Police from the inside and give their all to serve the king.  Jean had learned to accept their opportunistic attitudes, but never took part in sharing their beliefs.

The truth was that he really didn’t give a damn about the king.  The whole system was corrupt and he doubted that he and Marco patrolling the streets would make much of a difference.  Marco had once given Jean the option to stay behind when he went out for patrol, but Jean didn’t like that idea very much either.  It was not that he didn’t think Marco couldn’t handle himself, he had seen Marco in combat and he was a force to be reckoned with.  It was more so that Jean didn’t trust anybody else. Marco was obviously far from stupid, but Jean was fearful that his optimistic attitude might get him into trouble or a situation where someone might take advantage of him. 

So, Jean faithfully trailed alongside Marco every day, whining and complaining all the while, but still there of his own accord.  He just hoped that Marco was actually thankful of his company, it took a lot out of Jean to wake up so early and drag his lazy ass out of the sweet bliss of his bed.  Sometimes Jean wondered if he had made a mistake of joining the Military Police. It had barely been more than a week and he was already fed up with the attitudes of everyone around them. His only consolation was that at least Marco seemed to be getting self-satisfaction out of it.

Once Jean had finished dutifully scraping his plate of the warm breakfast slop he had been served he got up from his seat to dispose of his tray and go to line up where his rifle and duties for the day would be administered to him, knowing that Marco would follow behind him shortly.  It was when he was entering the hallway exiting the mess hall that he found himself colliding face first into a solid object, causing him to stumble back several steps.

“Motherfucker!” he exclaimed, grasping his nose which had taken the brunt of the impact.  He didn’t bother looking up at what he had hit till a firm hand landed on his shoulder.  Standing not a few feet away was a large man who looked to be in his mid-thirties. He had dark brown hair which he kept swept back and away from his firm jawline. The man seemed to be smirking in amusement at Jean’s plight, but the look in his eyes was something that Jean could not identify.  Jean had seen this man before when he first enlisted, he was a higher up in the Military Police, Captain… Captain Brandt. 

Upon remembering this, Jean scrambled to get from his hunched over position into a proper salute.  Brandt however, waved him down with a small chuckle.

“At ease, soldier.” He smiled, causing Jean to relax and drop his stance. “And just what were you in such a hurry to do that you couldn’t bother looking ahead of you?” Jean began fidgeting at this, this man was teasing him.

“I was about to go on patrol…” he said, eyes cast down, not bothering to add a formal “Sir” to the end of his sentence as his small retaliation to Brandt’s mocking.  A heavy hand slamming into his back caused him to lurch forward. Jean raised his gaze to see the brunette man smiling gleefully at him.

“It’s about time we got some more recruits like you, boy!” Brandt laughed. “Say, what’s your name?”

“Jean Kirstein.”

“Well Kirstein, I like you.  Once your patrol with your friend back there is over I want you to report directly back to me from now on, are we clear?” Brandt said never dropping his grin, making his order seem as though it were more of a request. 

Jean nodded stiffly, confirming his agreement. Wait- friend? He turned around to see Marco hovering few feet behind him by the entrance of the mess hall watching this exchange.  He seemed about just as amused as Brandt did.

When Brandt began walking away Jean let out a breath of air he hadn’t known he had been holding.  It was kind of surreal to him, he had never had a higher up favor him or even like him before. For the most part most of them tended to think of him as a bit of an ass so this was something new, but hell maybe there would be perks to go with favoritism, he guessed he did want the cushy lifestyle and Brandt may have been the key to real luxury.

“Looks like you just got into the good books with a higher up, way to go Jean.” Marco exclaimed joyfully, jogging to catch up to Jean.  One look at Marco and Jean could tell that the other boy was actually truly excited for him. Maybe Marco was under the impression that the whole situation would make Jean more complacent with his standings in the Military Police. “Now come on, let’s go to briefing so we can head out.”

 

Jean allowed Marco to lead the way as they marched their way through the Stohess District.  Jean for one was not in a good mood, twice now he had almost slipped on the newly icy streets, but Marco kept on as usual, vigilant as ever looking for signs of trouble and looking generally relaxed as he chatted to Jean about trivial matters like the weather.

“I wonder what Officer Brandt saw in you.” Marco pondered earning him a glower from the other boy.  He did have a point though.  Jean was nothing if not a jerk to him, he had figured that the larger man was just eccentric.  In the end he had chosen not to dwell on the matter.

“What Marco, you don’t think my charming personality would be enough to win over the hearts of the superiors?” Jean responded, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“You’re right, you’re right, my bad. It must have been how you cursed him out after you gracefully face-planted into his chest.” The freckled soldier jested in return.

“You saw that!?”

“Oh, did I forget to mention?”

The two boys continued bickering playfully for several hours to come.  It was not until they were making their way back to the Military Police headquarters that they encountered any trouble at all.  They were continuing their trek through the darkened city when they heard a shrill scream erupt from an alley down to their right, followed by an exclamation of “Stop, thief!”

Marco, reflexes good as ever immediately sprang into action, turning towards the direction of the shout and taking off at full speed, Jean hot on his heels.  Jean wouldn’t want to say he was thankful there was crime in the city, but he was thankful that maybe, just maybe he would get to see some action today.  They turned a corner to see a cloaked figure running with what appeared to be a small purse.  Great, a purse snatcher Jean thought, how typical.  

That’s when it happened, the purse snatcher fell, and Jean not being able to stop in time on the slippery pavement skid until he was upon them.  Tripping over the purse snatchers body he attempted to break his fall by falling into a forward roll, which worked, that is until he found himself rolling headfirst into a pile of newly fallen snow that had been scrapped to the side of the pavement.   He imagined the scene would have been quite comical if he had been anyone but himself at the time.  No, right now the only thing he was feeling was cold and wet. 

When Jean got up, he found that Marco had also fallen, his body lying next to the unmoving body of their alleged purse snatcher.  Marco appeared to be in pain, clutching at his right arm and softly groaning. Shit.

“Marco, are you alright?” Jean asked urgently, hurrying to his side.

“Ah, yeah, I think my arm is broken though.” Marco replied through his teeth.  He attempted to smile at his best friend, but broke it off with a wince.

“You dumbass that’s not alright at all.” Jean said as he put Marco’s left arm around his shoulder and began helping him to his feet. “We have to get you to urgent care right now, man.”

“What about the purse snatcher?” Marco said, clearly conflicted.

“We can send somebody from headquarters to get him, this is a little more important right now.”

The trudge back to headquarters was long and arduous for Jean.  It wasn’t that Marco was particularly heavy for him, but the slippery roads and lack of light certainly did not help the situation.  Somewhere along the way Marco passed out, most likely from the pain of Jean constantly jostling him, but he never complained.

It took an hour just for Jean to get Marco to the medical clinic located inside of headquarters, lucky for them that the Military Police was also supplied with some of the best doctors.  He dropped Marco off before he made his way to Brandt’s office to make a full report, remembering how the man had so casually reassigned him to himself.

When he was finally standing outside of Brandt’s door after asking around a bit when he had realized he had no idea where the man’s office actually was, he hastily pounded on the door, just wanting the day to be over with. A pleasant voice called him inside and he was greeted with the same man from that morning sitting at a large oak desk in front of a fireplace. 

“Ah, Jean! I was wondering if you would remember to show up.” Brandt began with the same grin he had worn that morning. “It’s a good thing you did too, now sit down.” Brandt gestured at the seat in front of his desk, welcoming Jean to sit, which he did.

“So, what news do you have for me today?” Brandt asks, leaning forward over his desk.  The action made Jean slightly uncomfortable, but he brushed the feeling off in favor of beginning his report, after all important things had actually occurred that day.

Jean hastily recounted the events of that day from the purse snatcher to Marco’s broken arm.  The large man before him just seemed to nod along with everything Jean told him, making small hmming noises.

“So your bunkmate, he is currently staying in the medical bay correct?” Brandt asked. Jean nodded the affirmative.  “All right, so if that’s all, you are dismissed.”

Jean made to leave, but was interrupted by Brandt who seemed to be having an afterthought.

“Oh, and Jean if there’s anything I can do to make your stay more comfortable, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

Jean hesitated a moment before deciding to speak.

“The bunk that Marco and I share, it gets really cold…” Jean left it to Brandt to figure out what he was asking before as he turned back to face the captain.

“Ah, of course, I forget that the newer recruit bunks don’t come equipped with fireplaces. I’ll have extra blankets sent to your bunk as soon as possible.” Brandt said, beaming at Jean.  Why this man was always so happy, Jean figured he would probably never know. Maybe he just brought a smile to his face as Marco had sarcastically implied earlier. 

Nonetheless he took the man’s statement as a cue to exit the office and make his way back to his bunk in considerably higher spirits than before.  He had a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach, like something was not quite right, but he brushed it off and attributed it to him still being soaked from his dive into the snow.  He let his mind wander in favor of letting himself be taken with fantasies of being passed out, nice and warm in bed.

 

Jean was roused from his sleep that night by the feeling of his mattress sinking beneath him.  He chalked it off as Marco moving around as per usual and attempted to go back to sleep before the realization occurred to him that Marco was in the medical bay at the moment and there was no way that he would have already returned.  Jean’s eyes immediately snapped open and he attempted to bolt upright in bed where he was met with the sight of a large form looming over him.

He jolted back and attempted to shout, but was impeded by a large hand draping itself across his face making it impossible.  This was definitely a man Jean concluded, his mind panicked and hazy from his sleep induced state.  He tried prying the man’s hand off of his mouth, but found that his arms were quickly pinned to his sides by the person on top of him who was holding him in a kind of hug.

Struggling seemed futile at this point but Jean refused to give up. Like hell he would allow himself to be murdered in his own bed. He only ceased struggling when a very familiar voice whispered into his ear.

“Shh, it’s only me, Jean.  You know it’s been quite a while since someone has caught my eye like you have.” The man whispered into his ear.  Shit he knew this voice, he had been speaking to it only a few hours ago.  “Maybe it’s just my tendency to go after spitfires, more of a challenge you know.”

Enraged by the man’s statement Jean began to buck more wildly beneath the larger man in an attempt to free himself.  It was in his wild attempts to escape that he felt it.  He could feel Brandt’s erection digging unforgivingly into his thigh.  Okay so he wasn’t here to murder him, what he was here for turned out to be much, much worse.

Jean was jolted from his thoughts when the hand that had previously been covering his mouth reached for what lay in the confines of his loose pajama pants. He took the opportunity to speak, to try and reason with the man who was currently crushing him into the mattress.

Panicked lips parted when Jean hissed “What the hell are you doing?! Get the fuck away from there!”

Brandt seemed to not hear him as he allowed his thick, calloused fingers to slip into Jean’s pants and wrapped them around Jean’s flaccid dick. Jean wanted to cry.  This kind of thing was not supposed to happen to guys like him, he was too obnoxious, too crude, hell he wasn’t even all that attractive in his own opinion. There was a reason the other kids in the 104th had nicknamed him horse face. Or at least that’s what he had thought.  He was supposed to be safe here in the interior, living in the lap of luxury, not being molested in his own bed by his superiors.

“You like that do you?” Brandt cooed, purposely mistaking Jean’s noises of distress as noises of arousal. 

“N-no!” Jean cried back, hands desperately trying to pull away from Brandt’s unforgiving hold.

“Really? Because this little guy seems to be enjoying it just fine.”  Jean realized with horror that the captain was right, despite his struggles Brandt’s firm strokes of his cock had indeed gotten him hard. “Go ahead, call for help. I’m sure everyone would love seeing you like this.

Jean bit back a sob. He knew he definitely wouldn’t call for help. His pride was too great to allow anyone to see him in this position. Brandt’s administrations began growing rougher as more time passed, all the while breathing roughly into Jean’s neck, at one point allowing himself to bite it causing Jean to cry out with a pitiful yelp.

A large hand traveled up Jean’s chest lifting his shirt up and pinning him into place.  Warm fingers took one of Jean’s nipples into their pinch and tweaked it roughly.  Jean hated to admit it but his body was on fire and he had begun to rut back into his superiors grasp. He was scared, but he was undeniably aroused, no doubt what Brandt wanted.

Whimpers echoed throughout the small bunk as Brandt brought Jean closer and closer to his peak.  Jean just wanted this nightmare to be over.  Hopefully he would wake up in the morning and this would just turn out to be some fucked up wet dream he had. 

“Oh, don’t cry babe, you love this.” Brandt said.  Jean was crying? He hadn’t even noticed the tears that had sprung into his eyes in his inner turmoil. Ashamed he turned his face away, refusing to look at the other man. Stern fingers gripped his jaw, forcing him to look the captain in the eyes.

Jean felt himself grow more and more restless, hips bucking uncontrollably from where he was pinned on the stiff mattress as he neared his climax.

“Shit, I- I’m going to-“and that was as far as Jean got before the hand around his dick vanished. He whined pitifully at the loss of contact.  He was about to ask why Brandt had stopped, but was stopped short when he felt two hands grip him and flip him over so he was now lying face down.

It was now that Jean saw the true direness of the situation. Of course the captain hadn’t just come in here to get him off.  Jean began scrambling away on all fours, but found himself being dragged back by a firm grip on his hip.

He didn’t even have time to protest before his pants were brutally yanked down, exposing his milky white bottom to the other.  Jean buried his face in humiliation when he felt a slick finger prodding at his exposed entrance.  He hadn’t heard Brandt take out any lube, but then again Jean was busy with trying to and failing at not freaking the fuck out. 

Jean lets out a gasp when the first finger breached his entrance.  The captain’s finger was thick and uncomfortable as it sunk all the way into Jean’s most private of places. It wasn’t all that painful, but it was tight to say the least and Jean would obviously have rather never experienced the feeling. It was when Brandt began moving his finger around that Jean truly started squirming.

“Why are you doing this?” Jean panted. 

“Because you’re so pretty.” Brandt replied flatly.  Jean didn’t know why he even bothered to ask.  Of course there would be no logical explanation other than a horny soldier looking to get laid.  At that Brandt seemed to decide that it was time to add a second finger. Okay, that one burned. Jean grit his teeth to suppress the pained whimpers that were coming out of him.

Brandt scissored his fingers inside of Jean’s asshole spreading him wide to loosen him up.

“Goddamn you’re so tight.”  Jean said nothing in response to the larger man’s comments.  He was still waiting to wake up from this nightmare.  Then suddenly, Jean was forced from his thoughts when Brandt’s fingers hit something inside of him. He jerks with a loud gasp underneath him as pure pleasure flashes before his eyes.

Brandt chortles behind him and hits that spot again causing Jean to absolutely keen.  He didn’t know that spot existed and right now he positively hated it as Brandt began a relentless assault on it turning Jean into a shivering whining mess. He hardly even minded when Brandt adds a third finger, the pain mixing in with the pleasure making Jean moan and buck back onto the fingers behind him.

“Good boy, fuck yourself on my fingers like a good slut.” Brandt laughs.  The comment would have made Jean absolutely livid once but now he had other matters to attend to.

“Y-you’re a bastard” Jean spat at Brandt.  He had a feeling that the effect of his words was somewhat lost, his voice coming out breathy and high pitched. 

“Maybe, but what are you going to do about it? Report me when you’re so ready and willing?”

“Not willing…” Jean retorts, a bit of drool escaping from behind his lips and running down his chin.

“Or maybe I should tell that little freckled friend of yours about how you tried to sleep your way up the ladder?” Brandt says, giving a particularly forceful thrust of his hand.

Jean’s eyes widen at that.  There was no way he could win. It was his word against the word of a high ranking officer who probably had tons of followers.  Who did he have? His own word and Marco who he refused to let know about how depraved he had become. He let out a frustrated sob making his decision.

“Don’t- don’t tell Marco.” He whispered shakily, gripping the sheets as though his life depended on it. 

“Alright, I won’t so long as you’re a good boy and do everything that I say.” Brandt replied victoriously. Jean nodded desperately into the sheets, making his answer known. “Now spread yourself.”

Brandt removed his fingers from Jean’s entrance leaving Jean feeling strangely empty.  Hesitantly Jean reached behind himself and gripped both of his asscheeks, presenting himself to his superior. It was by far the most humiliating thing Jean had ever done.  He could feel his face flush red to accompany the tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Good pet.” Brandt whispers, right as Jean felt something new and foreign touch his entrance.  Jean didn’t even have the words to describe what he felt next, just a burning, incredible pressure as the other man grabbed his hips and dragged him back onto his huge erection.

It hurt. Holy hell it hurt, fingers were not enough for this. Jean felt as though he were being split in two by Brandt’s gigantic cock.  His mouth forming an O as Brandt sheathed himself in him in one smooth motion before immediately pulling out and slamming back in causing Jean to let out a loud cry.

The pace Brandt set was brutal, Jean crying and groaning at the ruthlessness of the assault, but then Brandt found that spot in Jean that caused him to go absolutely wild.  The first time he struck it Jean let out a small shout. The man paused, then the assault began again just as fast, but focused on that one particular spot.

Jean couldn’t keep himself quiet after that. He let out loud moans and cries as that spot was struck again and again.  He knew he sounded like a bitch in heat, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Th- there, ah! Right there!” he cried as the other man pounded into him from behind.

“Ah-ah, Jean, you sound like such a whore.” Brandt says, but he complied with Jean’s request.

“Gonna- gonna cum!” Jean moaned. When he finally did come he came with a loud cry. Pent up semen leaving him in long spurts, landing all over his belly and the sheets below him.  Jean fell limp while Brandt continued thrusting into him from behind, his thrusts losing their rhythm and becoming jerky when he finally reached his climax, burying himself deep inside of Jean.

When he pulled out Jean allowed his lower half to collapse back onto the bed. Everything just hurt now, and he just wanted to stew in self-loathing. How could he have allowed that to happen? Unfortunately he wasn’t allowed the opportunity due to Brandt slapping him harshly on the ass.

“You did good, kid.” Brandt says to him as he zips up his pants. “Next time I promise to go a little easier on ya now that I’ve broken you in. Remember, you keep reporting to me unless you want your friend finding out what a slut you are, or worse something unfortunate happens to him.” Jean felt his heart sink into his stomach at the words. This was happening again. He had just threatened Marco if Jean failed to comply. He was fucked.

The door slammed harshly behind Brandt upon his exit and it was only then that Jean allowed himself to curl up and cry himself to sleep. Maybe it was still a nightmare and he would wake up completely fine in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is released from the sick bay, Jean is distant.

It took two days before Marco was discharged from the medical bay.  He had insisted on leaving after the first day, but his request had been denied as they had been worried about him going into shock since he was unconscious when he first showed up. Half the doctors seemed concerned about why he wanted to leave so badly. No other member of the military police ever seemed to be in a rush to get out since the medical bay is where they would be pampered most without any duties whatsoever.  

However, the inactivity made Marco restless.  He wanted to get out of bed, he hated being bed ridden.  Even if he was unfit for duty he at least wanted to be able to walk around and help out at the base. He also missed Jean.

He was aware that they had only been apart for two days, but the other soldier had failed to visit him even once.  Marco hoped it was because he was busy covering for both of them, although knowing how Jean hated police work that probably wasn’t true, he was probably just slacking off without him to keep him in line.

It made Marco insecure to think about how Jean honestly would rather do nothing.  Maybe he preferred it without his freckled companion always nagging him and that’s why he had never bothered to visit. Marco was aware that he was being negative, but what else could he do?

Upon being released from the medical bay the first thing he did was head up to his quarters in search of his friend. When he opened the door however, he was greeted with an unfamiliar face.

A lean, blonde soldier Marco had seen around the base stood before him in his room.  Over his shoulder he could see a surly brunette sitting on the bed frame and pulling on his boots for the afternoon.

“Can I help you?” the blonde asked, seeming confused as to why Marco was there. Marco fidgeted with his sling, unsure of himself.

“I’m sorry, I’m looking for Jean… I have the right room right?” Marco asked, slightly embarrassed.

“Ah yeah, pissed off lookin’ guy? Apparently he and his roommate were transferred to the second floor bunks. Room 103 they said.”

The second floor? Weren’t those for the more experienced officers? Maybe Jean had been working harder than Marco had anticipated.  He was immediately struck by a pang of guilt for doubting his friend. Nonetheless he thanked the confused blonde and made his way upstairs to find Jean.

Once he arrived at the room the soldier had directed him to Marco lightly knocked on the sleek wooden door three times.  There was some angry shuffling before the door was barely cracked open.  Looking down slightly he saw Jean’s eye peeking through the crack in the doorway.

“Marco?!” Jean exclaimed, as if Jean was shocked to see him. He opened the door a bit wider, pulling Marco in hurriedly as though he were afraid someone would see them.

The room was slightly more spacious than the last room they were in, the beds at least a foot wider than the small cots they were originally administered.  In the corner there was a fireplace, which Marco was happy to see. It was nice that they finally had one since Jean always complained about it being too cold.

“Sooo, you got us a new room huh?” Marco asked, feeling slightly awkward.  There seemed to be some sort of heavy tension in the air that Marco couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah… I’ve been doing some extra work around the base so they promoted me.” Jean said, not making eye contact with Marco. Strange. “They offered me a single, but I refused to move unless you could come too.” Jean added hurriedly.

Marco was warmed by Jean’s thoughtfulness.  He was glad that he hadn’t been abandoned in his absence. He was also surprised that Jean had been able to make demands such as that considering they were usually just told to do as they were told. Jean must have been working extremely hard. Marco felt a swell of pride for his friend.

“What have you been doing?” Marco pushed further, hoping to get some insight on what Jean had been up to. The question seemed to stop Jean in his tracks.

“Ah- I just do work around the base now. I don’t go on patrol anymore. I’m a higher-ups personal assistant, so it’s mostly paperwork.” Jean said flatly, looking everywhere but at Marco. Marco noticed this but for some reason he felt as though it was not his place to comment.

“Well I’m going to be around the base a lot more due to this damn arm.” Marco said, gesturing to the damaged arm. “So I’ll still be seeing you a lot.”

“Probably not, Brandt usually keeps me pretty busy.” Jean replied.

“Oh so it’s Brandt?” Marco asked. “I knew you guys hit it off right away, you’re pretty lucky Jean.”  Jean merely replied with a shrug, turning towards the door.

“Look Marco I’ve got work to do so I’ll see you later.” Jean said coldly before brushing past his black haired friend and walking out the door.

Marco felt his heart sink.  Maybe Jean was just having a bad day or something, but his attitude was really off putting.  Marco flopped onto what he assumed was his bed since the other one was thoroughly messed up, probably thanks to Jean not refusing not to make his since they no longer had to deal with bed checks.

He rolled over. He was probably over thinking things, still though, he couldn’t get it out of his mind how Jean had not looked him in the eye once.

 

 

Jean walked the halls with heavy footsteps. He felt like shit just brushing his best friend off like that, but he didn’t know how to face him. Hell, how COULD he even face him, knowing what he did to get himself there?  Talking to Marco had just felt wrong when everything he felt was a lie.  Marco didn’t deserve to be lied to.

The wood leading up the stairs to the third floor creaked heavily in Jean’s ears in anticipation of what was to come.  He hated this feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, his thoughts drifting from Marco to what was to come. 

Brandt hadn’t taken him again since that night and for that he was thankful.  The first time he was called back to the man’s office he had been terrified, but the man had only asked him to sit down and help him with his paperwork for the rest of the day. Never mind that the chair Jean had occupied the first time was absent and Jean had been made to sit on the floor next to the Captain’s desk.

Even if nothing had happened the air was still thick and Jean could not stop his heart from palpitating in anticipation of when he would be attacked again.

He entered Brandt’s office, not bothering to knock since he knew the door would always be unlocked.  Jean was greeted with the same smile he had grown to detest that had greeted him the first time he had come in here.

“You’re late, boy.” Brandt stated, never dropping his grin. Jean shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Marco came back today…” he answered, leaving his statement open ended.

“Ah yes, your broken friend, and what did you say to him.” Jean scowled at how Brandt addressed Marco, but made no move to comment on it.

“I didn’t have time to talk, I was late… Sir.” Jean answered. He knew what Brandt was really asking him ‘how much did you tell’. Brandt seemed satisfied with his answer and gestured to a stack of papers on the floor, indicating that Jean sit down.

Jean’s face reddened as he knelt down next to the captain’s desk. This was humiliating, but he made no move to protest.  It infuriated him to know he was being so subservient, but really what could he do? He began his work in silence not bothering to give the man next to him a second glance.

About three hours in he heard Brandt let out a loud sigh. Looking up at him he saw that the large man was leaning back in his chair, paperwork abandoned. Brandt looked down at him and Jean immediately looked away, hoping that the man had not seen him staring.

Jean had no such luck, he felt his face being grabbed from above, forced to look at the captain who was leaning down towards him.  Jean froze up in shock when he was immediately subjected to a harsh, wet kiss.

He jerked his head back in an attempt get away from the unexpected heat, which the captain responded to by biting his lower lip.  Jean let out a gasp at that, allowing the Captain’s tongue to work its way into his wet cavern, exploring his mouth and moving against his tongue in an attempt to get Jean to respond.

Jean weakly began to respond when Brandt’s hand wound its way to the back of his neck, gripping him tightly in warning.  Jean attempted to relax, letting his eyes fall shut and trying to remember to breathe through his nose as the kiss went on for what seemed like an eternity.

Finally his superior pulled way leaving Jean slightly dazed, drool hanging from his slightly parted lips.

“You’re so lovely.” Brandt whispered hotly into his ear, before Jean was snapped out of his daze by a harsh pull to the back of his collar, causing him to fall forward onto his hands and knees. He was then dragged into the space underneath the captain’s desk, forcing him to look up at him through his spread legs.

“You’re disgusting.” Jean hissed.  That didn’t seem to please Brandt, as Jean was met with a backhand.

“Still so much work to be done.” Brandt sighed. “Still though, I can think of much better uses of your mouth than to spit those vulgarities.” Jean wrenched his head back when Brandt’s hand pushed the back of Jean’s head and forced his face into his clothed crotch.

“I hope you can understand what I’m implying.” The captain said, meeting Jean’s defiant glare. “Bite and just see what happens.  You wouldn’t want anything bad happening to that cripple you adore so much, right?”

Jean stiffened. Marco… He wouldn’t let anything else bad happen to Marco.  Jean slowly reached up with trembling fingers to undo the zipper and buttons on the older man’s trousers. Part of him couldn’t believe this was happening, the other part felt like it was all too real.

Brandt wasn’t wearing any underwear Jean discovered, as pulling down his zipper immediately released his half hard erection from the confines of his pants. 

“Remember, any funny business and your friend pays.” Brandt chided.  Jean tentatively grasped the other man’s cock.  He slowly began pumping his hand up and down, refusing to make eye contact.  He could feel Brandt’s dick hardening in his grasp. It made him feel sick.

Once he had worked him to full mast Brandt seemed to get bored of the treatment. He grabbed Jean’s hair and tilted his head upwards to make eye contact.

“Use your mouth.” He breathed. Jean felt tears of rage burning behind his eyes, but still didn’t protest. ‘For Marco’ he thought. Jean shyly stuck his tongue out and lightly licked the tip of Brandt’s erection, eliciting a soft noise from Brandt. Spurred on by this he dragged his tongue along the underside of the shaft before lightly lapping at the tip again. It didn’t taste awful, but it was definitely something Jean could have gone without for the rest of his life.

Jean didn’t expect it when Brandt decided to grab him by his short locks again and forced his penis into Jean’s open mouth. Jean choked and began scrambling at the other man’s thighs, not able to take so much at once. Brandt seemed to have little regard for this though, as he began thrusting into Jean’s mouth at once.

Jean felt like he was dying, in his panic he couldn’t breathe like this and he couldn’t pull away as Brandt had started using his hair in order to move his head back and forth onto his huge cock. He could feel bile building up in his throat, but it couldn’t come out. Tears finally falling from the corners of his eyes he attempted to concentrate on relaxing his throat and breathing.  

It took several tries of gagging and wanting to puke before Jean forced himself to open his throat up and try to accommodate the dick being forced down his throat.  

“Good boy, I knew you would be a fast learner.” Brandt cooed at him from above, never relenting his powerful hold.  Jean simply closed his eyes and let his tears fall, small noises of discomfort making their way around the other man’s cock.

Then there was a loud knock on the door. Both Jean and Brandt froze in their movements. Jean waited in silence hoping that they would just go away when-

“Come in.” Brandt’s booming voice called. Jean made to remove himself from Brandt’s dick, but found he was still being held in place. He heard the door creak open and two sets of boots enter.

“State your business.” Brandt commanded.

“Just delivering today’s report, sir.” A voice Jean did not recognize replied. Then there was a tight squeeze at the back of Jean’s neck causing him to jump. This man could not be serious. Jean slowly began moving his head back and forth freely on Brandt’s cock, now able to control his own movements. He ignored the conversation happening above him and just prayed to God the other two soldiers would leave soon.

When the two soldiers finally left he could feel Brandt physically relax above him.

“You did well, kid.” Jean didn’t reply and just continued, hoping Brandt would finish soon. “Did that turn you on? Just knowing one wrong move and they would have seen what a slut you are.” Jean still didn’t reply. “Well I know, and I know how much you love this.” Brandt said, grabbing Jean’s hair again and ruthlessly pounding into his mouth causing Jean to choke again.

Soon though, Brandt stiffened, stuffing his cock as far back as it would go into Jean’s mouth and cumming down his throat, taking Jean by surprise.  Jean began to cough, as he had not expected it.

“Swallow it.” Brandt commanded. Jean attempted to, but was unable to swallow all of the bitter fluid, some of it dribbling down his chin and onto the floor. “Lick it up.”

Jean felt his anger boiling over.

“No.”

He was taken off guard when a boot collided with his head, knocking him face first into the ground and pinning him there.

“What was that?”

“I said, fuck you.” Jean said, muffled by the wooden floor. The boot came down again and again, forcing cries from him. Jean’s head was spinning, the side of his cheek resting on the floor.

“Try again.” And Jean did, tongue slipping out from behind his teeth to slowly lap at the floor, cleaning up all the ejaculate he had let fall.  He continued this until there was none left.

“Good boy.” The captain said, letting him up. “You’re done for today, Jean. Anything you want?” Jean just shook his head no and fled the office as quickly as possible. 

 

Marco was shocked when Jean slammed the door open to their bunk, the other boy storming in with little regard for his presence.

“Whoa, Jean, what happened, is everything alright?” Marco asked worriedly upon his arrival.

“I got into a fight.” Jean responded gruffly before collapsing into bed, not bothering to change out of his uniform and pretending to sleep.  Marco said nothing after that and just stared at his supposedly sleeping roommate.  First he had brushed him off and now Jean was getting into fights around the base.  Marco knew Jean had an awful temper, but he couldn’t help but feel genuinely distressed over his best friend’s behavior.

Marco sat down and contemplated waking Jean up, but decided against it, maybe Jean would be more open in the morning.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of round 2. Please leave feedback if you enjoyed it or have any suggestions as to where this story is going because although I have a basic idea, everything is just kind of up in the air.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco misses his best friend. Hitch is a bitch and so is Jean.

Marco sighed as he sat down for breakfast.  Today was the fifth time that week that Jean had turned down going to breakfast with him in favor of sleeping in.  He recalled the last time they had gone down together. They had both been in line as per usual getting their standard meals, but when it was Jean’s turn the man behind the counter had asked his name and then come back with a separate tray.

He remembered being astonished at the selection that was served to his friend.  Instead of the usual generic porridge that was served to them daily, Jean’s plate was stacked high with pancakes, eggs, and bits of fruit Marco was unfamiliar with. 

What was more of a surprise was the look on Jean’s face when Marco turned to question him.  The blonde-brunette seemed to have paled in shock, his movements seeming mechanical when he reached to take his tray. He had guessed it was just another perk Jean had received with his new title, but that didn’t stop Marco from thinking it was strange when Jean simply picked at his food instead of devouring it wholly like he would have expected him to do.

Truth to be told Marco was slightly jealous. Jean was getting star treatment, but he still seemed dissatisfied.  Marco just told himself that he was being unreasonable and bitter, after all he had been cooped up for days on end not really doing much of anything thanks to his arm.  He couldn’t even do paperwork since it was his writing hand. 

Most days Marco just ended up sitting around his room or helping deliver papers from different offices when he pressed for work and just couldn’t take the solitude that came with doing nothing in his quarters. 

In the end Jean had ended up only eating a small portion of his meal and tossing the rest nonchalantly into the trash, before muttering something about Marco not waiting up for him since he would probably be working late.  Marco had just smiled and told Jean not to worry about it. 

He really was glad that his friend was learning responsibilities and taking his work seriously, but he still missed him.  Jean had been so consumed by his work lately the only time Marco really saw him was when they woke up and when Jean would tiredly come back to their room and instantly fall asleep. He longed to be able to converse freely with his best friend as they worked, no matter how dull their actual duties were.  It was with a heavy heart the Marco realized that even when he was back on duty he still would not be working with his friend. 

Marco was snapped out of his thoughts when two soldiers sat directly in front of him.  Raising his gaze from his untouched, undoubtedly cold now, porridge he saw Marlowe and Hitch sitting in front of him.  

Hitch was someone Marco was not very fond of.  She was a long thin woman with sany blonde hair, eyes that seemed perpetually amused, and a cruel laugh.  Luckily Marco did not really see much of her since she was one of the soldiers who regularly slacked off, but lately she and Marlowe had been hanging out a lot more. 

Marco often wondered why Marlowe put up with her. Probably something about him wanting to make her see that her cynical attitude was wrong, but in reality all Marlowe ever gained from her company was Hitch constantly putting him down and mocking him. 

“Where’s your boyfriend?” Hitch asked mockingly when Marco made eye contact with her.  Despite her statement being obviously sarcastic Marco couldn’t stop a blush from rising to his face at her words.

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Marco mumbled. “And he’s sleeping.  He got in really late last night; he actually woke me up…”

“You seem troubled; think he might be cheating on you, eh?” Hitch continued to jest.

“He just said they weren’t dating.” Marlowe said, looking disapprovingly at Hitch who seemed to find his statement even more amusing. “Besides even if they were, I doubt Jean is as low of a man as to be unfaithful to his partner.  He may not be the nicest guy, but I’m sure he wouldn’t sink to that level.”

“Says you, you see all that nice shit he’s been getting lately.  You know those were new boots I saw him wearing last time. You know how much those cost huh?” Hitch drawled.

“So he’s probably been working hard.  You did say that he’s hardly been in lately, right Marco?” Marlowe inquired.

“Y-yeah, he has.” Marco answered hastily. This conversation was making him ridiculously uncomfortable.  He knew Hitch liked to get under people’s skin the way she did and that Marlowe was probably right, but it still didn’t shake the uneasiness it had cast upon him. “I know he’s been working really hard lately, but I still kind of miss him you know? I never get to see him anymore.”

“Aw, lost in love, poor baby.” Hitch cooed, jutting out her lower lip as she feigned pity.  Marco reddened at that, but decided on not responding to her instigations.

“Maybe you should go visit him?” Marlowe suggested. “If all he does is paperwork and errands Brandt shouldn’t mind you there on his break.”

Marco perked up at the suggestion.  He had forgotten that Jean was given breaks to eat and such.

“You’re right; maybe I’ll stop by at lunch time or something.” Marco said, in a considerably more happy tone.  Maybe they could work something out to see each other during the day if the captain permitted it. He seemed like a nice enough guy, and didn’t seem like he would object given he had already done so much for Jean. 

 

 

 

Jean let out a deep exhale as warm, familiar fingers worked their way inside of him.  To say he had become completely accustomed to them would be an overstatement.  No matter how many times they did this Jean always had trouble forcing himself to relax around the enormous pressure that those fingers brought. 

There was a sharp tug to his neck from behind, the leather collar fastened around his neck biting into his skin unforgivingly as the chain was pulled.  Jean stood bent over at the captain’s desk wearing nothing but that collar, a new addition to him that he had yet to see prior to that afternoon.  At first he had refused, but unfortunately refusal only got him so far when he was tossed around so easily in Brandt’s large, unforgiving hands. 

Jean let out a whimper that somehow worked its way into a moan when he felt Brandt add a third finger.  He hated how easily this man could pull him apart, hated how easily he always gave in.  It was many a night that Jean would arrive back in his bunk and pretend to sleep when in actuality he lied there enraptured in thoughts of self-loathing and pain. 

 Brandt seemed to decide that Jean was prepared enough when Jean began to shallowly thrust back against his fingers as he always did.  It made Jean feel betrayed by his own body, but he honestly couldn’t help himself. Brandt removed his fingers, making Jean let out a small whine at the loss. 

“Aw, you don’t like that, pet?” Brandt ridiculed. “Don’t worry I’ve got what you really want.” Another harsh tug to his collar forced Jean to arch his back, fingers clinging to edge of the desk when he felt Brandt lining himself up with his entrance and begin to slowly start forcing himself in.

Jean let out a low moan when the captain leveled off completely inside of him, stretching him to full capacity. Jean expected then for the man above him to start thrusting ruthlessly behind him as per usual, but it never came.  Instead Brandt began at a slow pace, grinding his hips into Jean’s backside in a way that made the young soldiers head spin. 

It felt undeniably good, but it wasn’t enough. Jean began trying move back and forth in an attempt to end the pleasurable torture he was being put through, but was stopped by two strong hands holding his hips firmly in place.

“If you want something, all you have to do is ask.” Brandt whispered hotly into his ear.  Jean shuddered and shook his head, tiny gasps escaping him as he was subjected to the treatment.  Every time Brandt slowly rolled against his prostate was pure torture and ecstasy. Jean closed his eyes and licked his lips.

“More…” he gasped out quietly when Brandt grinded against that spot again.  His words caused Brandt to stop in his movements all together.

“I’m sorry what was that?”

 “More.” Jean repeated, face glowing red with shame.

“Sorry I’m afraid that you’ll need to be more specific.” Brandt replied, clearly reveling in Jean’s embarrassment.

“Do it- do it harder.” Jean hissed, stuttering at a jerk of Brandt’s hips.

“Do what?” Brandt said, jerking his hips again, causing Jean to let out a small shout.

“Fuck me harder.” Jean whispered as Brandt pressed insistently at that spot.

“Well if you say so.” Brandt chuckled, and with that he began pounding into Jean at a merciless pace, not stopping to let Jean become accustomed to it and completely throwing all forms of consideration to the wind. 

Jean could do nothing but cry out and moan loudly at the unexpected pace that had been set. He felt as though the intense pleasure was consuming him and would cause him to break, but stopping was the last thing on his mind.

“Tell me what you want Jean.” Jean barely processed Brandt talking into his ear, but responded nonetheless.

“F-fuck me!” he cried out, pushing back against his superior, taking the man’s length in full. He didn’t realize that his words were being pushed out like a mantra, over and over again as he buried his face into his arms.

“Tell me that you love my dick.” Brandt commanded, roughly yanking at the back of Jean’s collar, forcing a breathless scream from him. 

“I- fuck! I love your dick! More, do it more!” Jean practically choked out the words, words he knew he would hate himself for later, but right now he couldn’t be bothered to give a damn.

Jean came with a sob, spurts of cum being forced from him and landing all over the floor as he slumped completely against the desk while the captain continued thrusting into him from behind.  Now that he had come down everything just felt disgusting and the relentless thrusting just hurt and felt more disgusting than anything. 

It always felt like ages until Brandt came inside him.  When he pulled out his come dripped out of Jean’s gaping hole and down his legs, causing the soldier to shudder at the gross feeling. Brandt turned him around and lazily laid a wet kiss to Jean’s lips that Jean couldn’t even bother to try and avoid. 

“Here.” Brandt said, handing Jean’s rumpled uniform back to him.  Brandt stood perfectly dressed as always, the only thing off being that his pants were open. “You know, we should look into getting you a new jacket, the one you’ve got there has a stain on it.”

Jean simply nodded, taking the uniform solemnly before walking to the private bathroom located in the office to clean up and change.  Once inside however, Jean couldn’t help but sink down to the floor and allow silent tears to escape his eyes as he curled his bare knees to his chest. He never even noticed that the door to the office was no longer tightly shut.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not so long chapter, but I'm getting Marco more involved so ey, there's something. Please leave feedback and any suggestions you can think of.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco learns new things.

Marco ended up spending most of the morning lounging around in his room again, reading a book.  He had tried to see if anyone had needed help around the base, but was turned away whenever he offered his assistance.  It was probably because they thought he couldn’t do much of anything in his condition.

It nagged at him, but at least they would be removing the cast soon since his arm had only suffered a small fracture. 

Marco dwelled on Marlowe’s suggestion to go visit Jean during the regular lunch hour.  He actually debated with himself on whether or not to go.  He knew Jean wasn’t holding anything against him, or at least he hoped not, but for some reason he felt as though Jean might not be entirely pleased to see him.

He was afraid he realized, afraid of Jean pushing him away further and rejecting him. Marco knew however, that not confronting Jean would just make the distance between them grow larger and eventually they would be little more than roommates.

It hurt to think like that, he really did care for Jean.  Marco had never doubted that Jean cared for him equally, but now he didn’t feel so sure.  He felt as though he was the only one reaching here as Jean sank deeper into the Military Police and farther away from him. 

It dawned on Marco that maybe he had been the only one to care and that Jean had just kind of gone along with him because that’s what they always did. It probably hadn’t mattered to him at the time because as long as Jean was okay with it he was happy. 

Marco rolled over on his bed, tossing his book to the hardwood floor and groaned into his pillow.  He felt like such a girl, fretting over Jean like this.  Jean was happy; Jean was getting what he always wanted from the Military Police lifestyle and that should be enough for Marco to get over it.

With his new resolve Marco decided that yes, he would go see what Jean was up to during break later, he just desperately hoped he would not be greeted by the distant eyes that he had grown horribly familiar with. 

 

Just before 1 o’ clock Marco made his way out from his quarters, intent on seeing his friend and giving him a break.  He completely bypassed the mess hall, only stopping to give a small smile to Hitch and Marlowe, indicating that he would not be joining them today. 

The base felt unusually quiet as Marco made his way up stairs, the wood creaking loudly despite his light footsteps.  He figured that it was probably due to the fact that most of the officers were downstairs eating.

Jean never showed up during lunch though so he figured he must probably eat in Brandt’s office.  He hadn’t actually processed the thought as odd till now. Were they really so busy they could not be bothered to come downstairs and socialize.

Marco slowed as that ugly feeling he had grown to know as self-doubt reared its ugly head, but he pushed it aside.  He was doing this and would not be deterred.

When Marco reached the door to Brandt’s office he did not feel so confident however.  He raised his fist to knock, but he hesitated, maybe he should just go… It was in that hesitation that Marco heard it- a loud thump, the sound of something heavy being dropped against another surface. 

Marco paused and strained his ears to listen.  In the silent corridor he could make out two low voices, just beyond the door.  Marco jumped slightly when the sound resounded again, but this time was followed by a small shout. 

That was definitely Jean, what were they doing in there?  Marco wanted to turn tail and run at this point, the noises from beyond the door becoming more persistent, followed by noises of distress.  Did someone get injured? Was Jean being hurt?

The thought made Marcos’ stomach churn.  He had to see.

Slowly he turned the doorknob, so as not to disturb the people inside the office.  He was actually quite surprised when he was met with no resistance, the door lightly clicking open after a full rotation of the knob. 

He opened the door a sliver, just enough so he could peek inside unnoticed.  He truly wished he hadn’t.

Marco had to stop himself from gasping out loud at what he saw inside.  Inside the small office were Jean and Brandt as he had expected, the only thing off being that Jean was bent over the desk completely nude, while Brandt stood behind him and plowed into the boy.

Marco couldn’t look away. There was Jean, his angry, obnoxious Jean being completely dominated by another man, and by the wanton look on his face and the way he was rutting back onto Brandt’s dick, he was thoroughly enjoying.

Jean’s head was turned slightly towards the door and at first Marco thought that Jean had seen him, but when Marco looked again he saw that Jean’s pupils were blown wide and out of focus and that he wasn’t truly seeing anything in front of him.

It was with slight mortification that Marco learned that he had grown hard in his pants.  He couldn’t believe how attractive the sight of his best friend sprawled out blushing and drooling was to him.  He had always known that he found Jean attractive, but never like this. 

Then Jean let out another shout, this time with words, and Marco felt his pants get even tighter. 

“Fuck me!”

Jean was crying out for his captain and repeating the same words over and over, his face buried into his arms, ass spread wide open.  Marco reached down to try and alleviate some of the pressure on his aching dick, beginning to lightly palm it through his pants. 

Why was Jean so alluring like this?  Begging for the captain’s dick and moaning high pitched and breathy like Marco had never even imagined.  The sight of Jean who was such a stubborn person being so submissive made Marco bite his lip.

“I- fuck! I love your dick! More, do it more!”

Marco almost lost it at that.  He tried not to think about how this was what Jean had been doing all of those times he had gone out, this is what he had abandoned Marco for.  Were he and Brandt lovers or was Jean doing this for his own purposes?

Instead Marco tried to focus on the two men in front of him, noticing the collar around Jean’s neck for the first time, when Brandt continued to pull on it, forcing Jean to arch his spine and impale himself more thoroughly on Brandt’s dick.

Jean came with a long moan, trying to sink back against the dick in him completely. Marco just watched completely stunned and unmoving as Brandt finished, before manhandling Jean like an object and pushing a completely one sided kiss onto the boy.

Marco listened as Brandt shoved Jean’s uniform back at him.  A new jacket... those were expensive. 

He only noticed he was still standing unmoving when his eyes locked with the man’s standing in the room. There was a cruel twist to his lip as he stared Marco directly in the eye before letting out a light chuckle. 

Lost on what to do Marco turned on his heel and ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two short chapters in one day. Please review and comment, you guys are what keeps me goin'.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco just wants his friend back.

Jean crept quietly between the small gap he had made in his doorway and the wall, attempting to sneak in without alerting Marco to his presence. Brandt had kept him late again, allowing several hours between sessions, but still wearing the teenager down nonetheless.

It was around two in the morning, not a single officer awake to roam the dim halls that Jean had become so familiar with due to his unfortunate pattern of late nights out. When Jean had first started coming back late he had had a hard time mapping his way through the corridors, his aching body making it difficult to stay discreet.

He had almost flawlessly made his inconspicuous entrance when his foot caught on one of the raised floor boards causing him to stumble lightly in an attempt to regain his balance. It was a wonder that he did not scream when he felt two hands come out of the darkness and clutch his shoulders, helping posture him into an upright position.

“Marco!?” Jean yelped, looking at the face of his savior through the darkness. “What the fuck are you doing awake?”

Marco did not respond immediately, instead he let a lapse of silence come over them as he slowly loosened his grip on Jean’s shoulders, letting his hands fall back to his sides. There was something off about that movement, something incredibly unsure.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Marco finally responded, his voice coming out slightly hoarse as though he had been sitting awake in silence for an extended period of time.  Jean’s eyes widened at the accusing nature of Marco’s question, for a moment not knowing how to answer.

“Brandt had me working overtime.” Jean let out the answer he had practiced many times whenever he was inquired about his whereabouts, not even flinching as the bitter words rolled off of his tongue.  It wasn’t the first time he would lie to Marco and it most certainly would not be the last, so Jean pushed down the feeling of guilt into the recesses of his mind.

“I see…” The look on Marco’s face was indecipherable. “Jean, is everything okay? You’ve been acting different. You can tell me anything you know.”

 “I’m fine.” Was Jean’s immediate response, the answer falling from his lips. The words sounded hollow and empty in his own ears, he just hoped they were believable to his friend. “Everything is fine. I’ve just been kind of tired lately.”

“I miss seeing you.” Marco said softly. “Come down for breakfast with me tomorrow, okay?”

In all honesty Jean had no desire to do so.  He didn’t want to face Marco in the light again where he would have to look into those open eyes and spit lies into his face.

“Alright, if you really want me to.” Jean said, going against his true desire to turn tail and hide from Marco like the coward he knew he truly was.  If his best friend really wanted to spend time with a depraved person such as himself he would allow it. Jean completely pushed aside the thought that in actuality he probably missed being normal and seeing Marco way more than the other soldier could possibly miss him, however he would never admit that.

 

With that their conversation ended. Marco turned around and climbing into bed, the creak of the springs heavy in the new silence. Jean was left standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, a nervous feeling twisting through his gut. 

 

 

Jean ended up waking long before Marco did, an occurrence that was so rare it shocked even him. He had had a terrible night’s rest, his dreams filled with large hands pawing at him and forcing him to obey. Jean shuddered, recalling them, knowing that it was even worse because they were not just dreams, but memories as well.

A rustling to his left alerted him to Marco finally awakening in his own bed.  His hair was a mess and his eyes were still crusty with remnants of sleep, yet he still smiled when he looked over at Jean who had his head turned towards the tired brunette.

“Morning.” Marco croaked out, voice not quite there yet.

“I can smell your breath from here, man.” Jean replied.  Marco just grinned at that, rolling out of bed, feet planting themselves on the cold wooden floor, before he paced over to where Jean sat up in bed.

“Is this better?” Marco said, leaning down in front of Jean so that his morning breath cascaded across the blonde-brunette’s face. 

“Gross!” Jean made a movement to kick Marco away, but instantly seized up and winced when a bolt of pain shot up his spine at the movement.

Maco’s expression contorted from one of amusement to one of worry. He was quick to place his hand on Jean’s shoulder, only to pull it back sharply when Jean immediately swatted it away, mouth pulled into a grimace.

“Jean are you-“

“I’m fine, I must have pulled something.” Another lie. “Let’s just get dressed and eat already, I work early today.”

Marco nodded stiffly in agreement.  He reached to pull out both of their uniforms from the drawer they were located in, tossing his to Jean who turned around to dawn his.  Jean tried making himself as unnoticeable as possible while he got undressed, hoping that Marco was too busy getting dressed to pay him any mind.

When the pair was finally dressed they made their way downstairs to the mess hall, Marco keeping up light conversation as per usual and Jean responding with a few off handed comments.  It was almost as it used to be, but something stopped it from being so.

Something in both of the boy’s words was constantly calling their interactions out as a ploy. Acting as the roles they had become accustomed to in the past, but in actuality they were only following the script they had come to know and not truly speaking as themselves.

 

 

 

Marco couldn’t help but keep glancing at Jean, he spoke as he normally did, desperately trying to keep up the guise of normality they had set, but unable to focus.  He had seen the marks on Jean’s body when Jean was changing. Bright scratches and bite marks littered the other boy’s back. Marco wondered if he even knew they were there. 

Most notable of the marks on Jean’s body was the one that Marco had noticed from the moment he had lain eyes on his friend. Angry red chafing encircled Jean’s neck, reminding Marco of what exactly he had seen the night prior. It certainly was lucky that their uniforms had high enough collars to hide it.

He had spent the night prior repeating the scene he had walked in on over and over in his head.  Why would Jean go ahead and subject himself to that treatment? Did he enjoy it? It certainly appeared that he did.  It had gnawed away at him to the point where he felt he had to confront Jean, but the moment it came down to it the right words didn’t come out.

The guilt of knowing that it had aroused him hardly helped.  At one point in the night he had found his mind idly drifting back to the moment where he had seen his friend bent over the desk, but instead of peeking through a crack in the doorway he had been inside the room allowing his own hands to carress their way down Jean’s side, Brandt nowhere in sight.

Loud high pitch laughter interrupted the mundane conversation he and Jean were keeping up when they entered the mess hall. Marco turned around to see Hitch marching towards them, a large grin plastered on her face, Marlowe in tow.

“Well whatdya know? The dream team is back together again!” Hitch said, eyes darting back between Jean and Marco who looked equally unamused. “I thought we had seen the last of you, Pony Boy.”

“Pony boy?!” Jean blanched at the nickname.

“Aw, why the long face?”

“Don’t antagonize him, Hitch.” Marlowe said, finally interjecting Hitch’s teasing methods. 

“But that’s just the way I show I care, we haven’t seen him in forever after all.” Hitch said, jutting out her lower lip. “Besides, Jean here doesn’t mind, right?”

Hitch slung her arm around Jean’s neck, pulling him down to her level as she marched onwards.  Jean protested loudly, but could do nothing to shake the woman.  Marco and Marlowe just stood back in the hall, abandoned by their partners before shrugging and continuing in afterwards. 

They all stood in line together, metal trays in hand, waiting for their breakfast. Everything was going perfectly fine until it was Jean’s turn when he simply set down the tray he had picked up and followed after Marco who had just received his breakfast.

“You’re not going to eat?” Marco questioned.  Jean shook his head in response, mumbling something about not being hungry.

“What our food not good enough for ya?” Hitch said, coming up behind him. “I know you’re used to special treatment, but I think there’s a limit on being a spoiled brat, anyone can do what you do.”

“What are you playing at?” Jean said, his expression changing to one of anger.

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just that if all you had to do was suck a superior’s dick to warrant special treatment 24/7 I think everyone would be doing it right?”

Marco had no time to react when Jean lunged forward.  Hitch’s tray went sky high as Jean tackled the lanky woman to the ground.  Jean sat straddled across her abdomen, hands at her shoulders pinning her down.

“Take that back.” Jean growled through his teeth. Hitch laughed at that, only to be cut short when Jean’s fist struck her across the face.  Hitch’s expression immediately sober sobered up, a dark look falling across her face before her lip curled into a grin that could only be described as malicious.

“I’m going to make you pay for that, you fucking whore.” And with that Jean was sent flying over her head, landing in the puddle that was previously Hitch’s breakfast.

A small crowd had gathered around them by that point, everyone eager to get in on the excitement. Hitch was now standing over Jean, foot planted on his stomach.

“Do you want to beg, bitch?” Hitch laughed, raising her foot before heavily bringing it back down, causing Jean to let out a loud cough as he lost all of his air.

“Fuck you.” Was the only response Hitch got before Jean grabbed her ankle and brought her down to his level with a yelp. 

The two soldiers rolled around on the floor together, training be damned as they tried to rip each other apart.  Jean certainly had the strength advantage, but it was clear who the superior fighter was as Hitch pinned him again and again, landing sharp blows across his face, smiling ruthlessly all the while.

Marco stared, awestruck at the brawl happening in front of him, not quite sure what to do in this situation. Normally he would not have hesitated to dive in and grab his temperamental partner, but he found his feet stuck to the wooden floorboards.

He stood motionless until Marlowe ran up from behind him and jumped into the fray. He ripped a smiling Hitch of a bloodied Jean, taking an elbow to the face in the process before he successfully managed to dislodge the deranged woman.

Recovered from his unmoving position Marco followed suit in helping pick Jean up off the floor. His left cheekbone was already showing early signs of bruising, he was also sporting a busted lip and a bloody nose.  It could be worse, Marco concluded.  The thought still did not refrain him from shooting a nasty glare filled with promise to where Hitch stood tending her own wounds.

Jean didn’t seem to be having any trouble standing on his own, which was a good sign. Unfortunately he still seemed to jerk away from Marco when he reached out to try and assist in tending his wounds.  The fight had been less than a minute, but still had done its fair share of damage. 

“Kirstein.” Jean tensed as a loud, stern voice from the entry way spoke his name.

The bloodied boy slowly turned to the entryway, Marco’s eyes following his until they gazed upon the same imposing man.  Brandt was standing not far off, the look on his face stern for the first time Marco had known the man. 

“Jean...” Marco said gently, lightly reaching to rest his hand on his friends back to alert him that he was there for him.  It actually offended him when Jean rejected him again, brushing him to the side and making to walk where the captain stood. Touch had always been a casual thing for them and now suddenly, probably thanks to this man Jean was refusing him.

“Jean, stay.” Marco said again, this time anger seeping into his voice. He couldn’t help it, he was angry about losing his friend, angry about the obvious betrayal in which Jean chose Brandt over him. He actually recoiled in surprise when Jean turned back towards him, a grimace set upon his face.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Jean’s eyes were glazed over, glassy and unreadable, this wasn’t the Jean he knew. The shock was enough to make Marco back down long enough for Jean to turn his back to him and slink his way out of the hall at Brandt’s heels. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is building up to something big, yo. Please comment if you're interested in seeing more or have any ideas you think would be cool.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't talk shit about Marco.

“Care to explain what that little altercation was and why you thought it was acceptable?” Brandt said as he shut the door to his office behind them.  Jean said nothing, instead choosing to turn his head and stay silent, as if he were a petulant child.  He knew it was probably a shitty idea, but he couldn’t bring himself to repeat what Hitch had said to him without feeling his blood boil in rage and shame at the cruel truths she spat.

“Well?” Brandt was now standing directly in front of Jean, staring expectantly down at the teenager, threat clear in his voice.

“She-” Jean’s voice faltered before he took a second to shake his head and find it. “She, provoked me, sir.”

“Is that all?” Brandt asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly displeased with the answer Jean had scraped up. “A few words and you let that bitch fuck up your beautiful face…” Brandt’s hand caressed Jean’s bruised cheek, before trailing down to swipe his fingers across Jean’s bloody lip.

Jean flinched at Brandt’s touch, more so because of the pain than the actual touch, he was already used to Brandt touching him as if he owned him.  Still though, he didn’t like the anger he saw when he looked into the larger man’s eyes.

There was something about the situation that made Jean feel as though he were stepping through a mine field, or trampling through one like a newborn deer, give or take.  He knew that something unpleasant was coming, but had learned to accept it as life in the weeks that had gone by.

If he messed up or lashed out, he was punished until he was truly sorry, plain and simple. Jean hadn’t fought back in weeks, slowly learning, despite his stubborn attitude and brash tongue, that it was easier to give up. Originally he had resisted with every fiber of his being, until he was beat down into compliance with Brandt’s demands, always with the reminder never to tell lest someone else have a little mishap, the true meaning of the threat burning true in Jean’s brain.

 If he played the obedient child, however and bowed his head in submission he would be praised or even rewarded.  Still though, the luxuries he received were always accepted with bitterness and guilt, for he knew how they came to be no matter how nice his new coat was, or how spacious his new room was, or even how delicious the special food he was served was, it always left a grimy aftertaste on his palate, one he was sure was all in his head.

Although it felt disgusting, Jean had tried to convince himself to appreciate the good things he was given.  He told himself that it was worth it.  He had joined for an easy life, so what value was his body when he got all he could ever ask for? He repeated this to himself over and over again, desperately trying to believe his own deceptions, and to some point succeeded while in the midst of things, but afterwards the truth always hung heavy in the back of his mind, making him feel sick in the late hours of the night.

 “You should know by now that I am the only one allowed to mark you.” Brandt said with absolute authority, gripping the back of Jean’s neck where his hair was short and bristled.  The room fell silent.  Jean stared past the captain at the blank wall behind him.  All he had to do was obey and apologize and he would hopefully be forgiven.

“Have we reached an understanding?” Jean didn’t even realize he was holding his breath till he felt the other man’s fall hot and heavy by his ear. Jean nodded stiffly within the firm grasp.

“Sir, yes sir.”

 He breathed a sigh of relief when the grip on him relented and Brandt took a step back. He was being let go with a warning instead of the beating he had been anticipating for his outburst.  

“You’re friend, seemed pretty upset back there.” Brandt commented once he had retreated, still way too close for Jean’s comfort, but he was not about to complain now that he had been released. “Looked pretty pissed off after seeing the way you listened to me like a good little bitch.”

Jean often worried about what Marco thought. It was clear he was suspicious of something being wrong with him, and Marco was not wrong, definitely not wrong. The reaction Marco had given Jean had terrified Jean that Marco knew something, but of course he didn’t. Marco was too naïve and optimistic about life to suspect that his best friend was doing something as vile as whoring himself out, and was too trustful of the higher ups to think they might be abusing him.

The only thing that swayed Jean’s view on Marco happened only minutes ago.  That voice and grip Marco had directed towards him, they seemed as though they were coming from another person entirely. Marco wouldn’t use that angry, commanding voice and that almost possessive touch. Jean had been so freaked out by the turn of events and Brandt’s appearance he had shoved Marco off immediately so he could leave the proximity as quickly as possible, partially out of fear of the captain, but also out of fear of what his friend was currently seeing.

“What are you implying?” Jean questioned, feeling as though he knew exactly what Brandt was implying and not liking the idea of it in the slightest. His fists clenched, he would allow Brandt to talk poorly about him all he wanted, he had learned to accept that, but this was Marco, the boy scout whose only fault was perhaps being _too_ good.

“I’m _implying_ that you tell Goody Two-Shoes to keep his hands off you if he really cares about you.” Brandt said, suddenly standing adjacent to Jean once more. “And I _know_ he really _cares_ about you… or at least cares about how good of a fuck you are.”

“Marco would never do something like that! “ Jean said, fire rekindling inside of him, surprised when his voice came out as a shout, uncaring that he was now yelling in the captain’s face. Brandt merely laughed, finding it seemingly amusing that this kid still had the balls to shout at him.

“Or maybe, it’s not unrequited. Maybe you like him? Is that why you always shut up when I mention him? Is it because you love him and you don’t want him to know what a dirty slut you are?”

“That’s not true!” Jean’s face was flushed red at this point in humiliation and anger, how dare he talk about Marco like that! It was true, he did love Marco, but not in a romantic way. The other boy had simply always been a part of his life. They had grown up together, schemed together as kids, and supported each other through thick and thin.

Jean had been there for Marco when his grandmother died, and Marco was there for Jean when his crush went unreturned, that soft understanding smile never leaving his face despite all the bullshit Jean put him through. Friends always came and went for Jean, eventually getting tired of his crass attitude. Perhaps it was unfair of Jean, but Marco was the only person he could trust to never leave him.  So yes, Marco held a special place in Jean’s heart, and the thought of losing Marco was one of the only ones he felt could truly hurt him, but Brandt had turned it into this twisted thing, exploiting that fact and Jean despised him for it.

“I’ll leave finding out what’s true and what is not up to you, but you will only come to me, understood.” Brandt’s voice was no longer mocking, but an order that Jean understood all too well. He swallowed and nodded the affirmative.

Brandt smirked at Jean’s reply, sending Jean’s heart plummeting. “Now strip.”

“Sir, yes sir…”

Although the collar around his straining throat felt heavier than it ever had felt before, Jean supposed it could have been worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa Jean, are those feelings? Anyway, please comment and leave feedback, I love hearing from y'all.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is far from perfect

“Hey Marco, have you ever liked a girl before?” Jean asked, swinging his feet idly off of Marco’s porch.

The two boys were sitting outside of Marco’s house in the Trost district, both enjoying the fresh spring air, while sipping on the drinks Marco’s mother had so graciously prepared for them while they played outside. The question caught Marco off guard, not really expecting Jean to have thought about such things, all Jean ever seemed to care about was having fun and pulling pranks on girls, never had he talked about liking them.

“No, why would I?” Marco questioned earnestly.  He honestly didn’t really see the appeal, sure some girls were really nice, but that was all.  Marco had seen other kids around school acquiring relationships where they would hold hands and occasionally kiss, then a couple days later they were crying because they broke up.  It was all such a hassle he didn’t think he had time for that kind of thing. He had just figured he was too young for all that stuff, after all he was still only thirteen.

“N-no reason.” Jean said, looking away so as to try and hide his blushing face from Marco who just smiled at how embarrassed his friend was behaving. “I just- Nia is really nice isn’t she?”

Nia Eichel was indeed a very nice girl, she was one of the few girls that always laughed at Jean’s stupid jokes and helped him in class when he didn’t get something and Marco couldn’t help out. All in all Marco liked her alright, he wasn’t very close to her, but he could see why Jean was crushing on her.  With so few friends in his life it was obvious that Jean would fall for the one girl who willingly interacted with him.

“She’s okay.” Marco said with a shrug, “Why, do you like her?”

Jean bit his lip and nodded his head.  It was clear he had no idea what to do about the situation and was looking to Marco for his usual words of wisdom, but this time Marco honestly had none.  In Marco’s opinion the whole thing was kind of dumb, but he wouldn’t crush Jean’s feelings to tell him that.

“Should I tell her? What if she doesn’t like me back?” Jean sounded kind of panicked now. He reached out to grab Marco’s freckled hand, eyes asking for sincere help. Marco resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

“If you really like her you should tell her, if you don’t do anything then nothing is going to happen, it’s better to try, right?” Marco said with a smile, ignoring his annoyance. Jean seemed to physically relax at that, even returning a small grin to Marco, clinging onto every word that left his lips. “If she doesn’t like you, then you’ll just have to get over it.”

Jean’s face fell when Marco finished, his last sentence coming much harsher than his previous encouraging ones.  Marco didn’t really know why he felt the need to say it as such, maybe it was to try and drill the reality into Jean’s head before he gave into his hopes.

The subject dropped after that.

Two weeks later Nia approached Marco as he began making his way home, Jean staying behind to be lectured about carving something obscene into the wood of his desk.  She had seemed determined when she approached him, only to fall into shyness once she began speaking to the freckled boy.

“Hi, Marco.” Nia said, her head tilted towards the floor, causing her long dark bangs to obscure her eyes.  She wore a green dress that billowed lightly in the cool wind of the day that made her light skin seem even lighter against the color.

“Hey, Nia, what’s up?” Marco said lightly, wondering why Nia was approaching him. While they were never on bad terms with each other they just never talked to each other so it was indeed an oddity that she had come up to him alone.

“I, uh, I have something to ask you.” Nia said, finally looking up to look Marco in the eye. “Does Jean like me?”

‘Yes, of course Jean likes you, isn’t that obvious?’ Is what Marco should have said, instead he answered.

“Why do you want to know?”

“I- I, just heard rumors going around that Jean had a thing for me and I wanted to know if it was true.” Nia seemed to have lost her confidence after Marco’s answer, stuttering and turning red as she seemed to find something incredibly interesting in the dirt at her feet.

“Do you like Jean?” Marco asked, taking a step forward.  For some reason he didn’t like where this was going.  He didn’t know why he was getting angry at the stuttering girl in front of him when all she had ever been to him was kind.  Hell, this might have been Jean’s chance to finally create sturdy bonds with someone other than himself.

“Well, Jean is- Jean can be a really stubborn guy a lot of the time, but I also think he can be very sweet and I don’t think I would mind going out with him.” Nia said, hands balled up in her long skirt either in anxiety or to keep the wind from blowing it upwards, Marco wasn’t sure. Finally Jean would have another friend to turn to, he would no longer need to rely on Marco for everything, Jean would be so happy when he found out that Nia liked him back.

He didn’t know what possessed him when he spoke again.

“Sorry, Jean doesn’t like you, he likes someone else.” Marco said, giving Nia a sympathetic smile.  Nia’s face fell, hopeful eyes revealing surprise before falling into a state of disappointment, repressed tears visible at the rims.

“Oh, I- I see…” Nia said, after a short period of time saying nothing, no doubt attempting to process what Marco had told her without letting her tears fall.  “I guess that’s it then. I’ll see you, Marco.”

Nia had already begun walking away when Marco heard Jean’s voice shouting behind him before drawing nearer.  Jean was almost out of breath by the time he reached Marco’s location.  The other boy was red in the face and gasping for breath.  Marco used to worry for Jean whenever he was called to stay behind after class, but he had learned to accept it as a common occurrence, not even blinking when the sweaty panting boy struggled dutifully to catch up to him so they could walk home together.

“Was that Nia?” Jean asked, breathing heavily between words.

“Yeah, it was.” Marco replied, helping Jean straighten up from his hunched over position and swinging one of his sweaty arms over his shoulders so he could assist in helping him walk.

“She looked upset, what were you guys talking about?” Jean asked, his breath returning to a shallow, but still more normal rate.

“She wanted to know if you had a crush on her.” Jean’s face turned red at that.

“Why would she want to know that?”

‘Because she likes you too.’

“Because she likes someone else and said that she would appreciate it if you backed off a little bit.”

The happy mood immediately vanished from the air as soon as the words left Marco’s mouth. Jean visibly deflated at the false news. 

“Are you okay?” Marco asked, his voice filled with concern. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Jean said, his voice cracking midway as he rubbed his eyes fiercely with his forearm. “I just- It’s just some dumb crush anyway.”

Jean was now visibly trembling.  Marco may not have wanted to tell the truth, but he had never wanted to hurt Jean as well in the process.  It was just collateral damage. Even if Nia and Jean did end up going out they would only break up and Jean would be even more sad is what he told himself. He was doing Jean a favor by keeping them apart, Jean didn’t _need_ anyone else, right?

Marco sighed as he wrapped his arms around Jean and rubbed his back, Jean finally ending up giving up on holding back his tears crying into Marco’s shoulder.  It hurt Marco knowing that he had hurt Jean with his childish actions, but what else was he supposed to do?

 

That was the first time Marco could ever recall feeling possessive over Jean, he had almost forgotten about the whole situation ever occurring.  He had felt guilty later when Jean fell into a slump, but eventually he got over it and they both forgot.  Marco had just assumed he was being childish at the time and if it ever happened again he would not interfere, but now the same feelings were definitely stirring within him and they were ugly.

“Are you okay?” Marlowe asked, standing at Marco’s side now that everything had calmed down and Hitch and Jean had vacated the premises. “You know Hitch doesn’t mean what she says, she just likes to make people angry and-“

“Marlowe.” Marco cut him off before Marlowe could finish apologizing on Hitch’s behalf. He let out a deep sigh before continuing, Marlowe fallen silent to show that he was listening. “What if Hitch is right?”

It felt dirty to accuse Jean of such things out loud, but after what Marco had witnessed there was no way that he could deny something was going on between Jean and his captain. It was true that Jean was a hothead, but to launch into a full blown attack like that on baseless accusations was extreme even for him.

Marlowe’s eyes widened. “You think she is right? Why?”

“I get my cast off tomorrow.” Marco said hurriedly changing the subject, immediately regretting what he had just told Marlowe.

“Marco.”

Marco shook his head, it wasn’t right for him to tell people about Jean’s personal life, especially when he himself was not supposed to know.  That hurt, Jean keeping secrets from him when before they would tell each other everything.

“I have my reasons, but yeah…” Marco answered, leaving his reasoning ambiguous.

Marlowe’s mouth turned into a stern frown before he gave Marco an answer.  “I think that if Jean is fine with it, then it really isn’t any of our business.”

Marlowe’s matter of fact way of speaking struck him deep. It was none of his business, however-

“Jean IS my business, Marlowe. He’s my best friend.”  Marlowe raised an eyebrow at that.

“Marco, are you sure you aren’t harboring any feelings for Jean and that’s why this is all so personal to you?” All of Marco’s intensity dissipated as he mauled over Marlowe’s suggestion.  He had never thought about dating Jean, really.  He had always just assumed they would always be together, the way it should be, and with recent events there was no doubt that her found Jean sexually appealing.

“I, I don’t know. Maybe…” Marco said, his shoulders slumping forward.  Marlowe gave him a sympathetic pat on the back.

“I will not judge you for you preferences, but you have to remember Jean is a person, not a possession, and if Brandt is who he wants to be with then that’s how it’s going to be.”

The words made sense, but still. Brandt treated him like a possession didn’t he, like a _pet,_ he grimaced remembering the collar that had been used to guide Jean around like an animal. Marco grit his teeth.

_Not if I take him back._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marco and Jean growing up together is my favorite thing and you cannot take that from me. Please review and comment and whatnot.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco makes new friends. Jean does not want to have anything to do with people.

Marco flexed his fingers back and forth while stretching his right arm out before him.  It felt odd having his arm no longer cradled against his chest, but it was gloriously satisfying to have full mobility of his dominant arm again.  With this he could finally go back to doing his job again instead of mucking around headquarters. 

It had been some hours since he had gone to get his arm seen early that morning and he was currently making his way to where he would be assigned his duties for the day.  He honestly hoped he would get patrol. Anything outside of the deceivingly accommodating building would suit him just fine. Even if it was still cold outside, anything was better than being grounded at the base, it was a miracle he had lasted so long without losing his mind he mused, entering the small briefing room.

“Bodt.” A woman with a stern, sharp face and shortly cropped chestnut hair spoke his name, looking him up and down as though evaluating him. 

Marco didn’t know this woman, he assumed she must have recently been transferred to his division in his absence. He saluted anyway.

“Ma’am!” The stern woman seemed to approve of that.

“Sheryl Heitman.” She greeted, supplying Marco a name. “I have been informed about your case and why you were absent.  I am your division’s new captain, every day you will report back to me in my office. Unlike the other so called squad leaders here, I actually care about doing my job, and in turn you doing your job. If you choose to neglect your duties I shall see to it that you are thoroughly punished.”

Marco glanced around at the other officers, five in total not including himself. He had never seen a group of more attentive police officers in his life. They all stood in permanent salutation, eyes trained forward and clearly hanging onto every word Sheryl spoke.  The woman before him must have either been the devil or a god send.

“Meet Borris Bloch.” Sheryl said, gesturing at a mousy officer to step forward. “Your new partner. If either of you needs assistance with anything, do not hesitate to approach me.”

Borris Bloch was not much to look at. He was on the smaller side with frail arms that appeared to be slightly too long for him and sported blonde tresses that looked like they had not been decently brushed in quite a while.  The worst part was the way he held himself. He looked like he was ready to turn tail and run as though he was struggling to hold the salute he was currently giving. How this man had made it into the top ten was Marco’s guess, but he supposed he had seen crazier.

Never one to be rude Marco stuck his hand out in greeting to Borris.  It seemed to take a millennia before Borris finally reached down to grasp his hand in a cold sweaty grip.  Marco realized with a sinking feeling that this was the man who was supposed to replace Jean. He would never compare. 

Nevertheless Marco still smiled at his new partner and kept that grin on as they were administered their rifles and sent out for the day.  It almost fell into place like a mask by now, to grin while all the while he could probably not be more displeased. 

To be honest it probably wasn’t Borris’ fault, Marco was just bitter that he had unknowingly taken Jean’s place by his side as they trudged up the icy roads in awkward silence and Jean was doing God knows what at the moment. The thought made him shudder; he hoped Borris would think he was shivering from the cool air.

As it turned out, Borris did have some talent.  He had the amazing ability to shut down every single attempt Marco made at conversation with bluntly short statements no matter how hard Marco pushed he couldn’t get more than two words out of the guy at once until he finally gave up on the matter.  He had tried everything from family to talents and still nothing.  It just made the whole ordeal more frustrating.

“I think it’s about time for us to be heading back.” Marco said, dismayed by the thought of inevitably having to report back to HQ. Borris wrung his sweaty palms and shook his head.

“You don’t want to go back.” That started Marco, how could this awkward guy even begin to figure that out.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Marco said, plastering on the false smile he had let drop.

Borris simply shrugged. “You don’t like me.”

“What does that have to do with-“

“But you don’t like what’s back there even more.” Marco was rendered speechless by his partner’s sudden vocalizations. It wasn’t possible that Borris knew. Hell he had never even met him before today.

“How do you know that?” Marco asked, finding his voice at long last.

“I’m supposed to spy on you.” Borris said casually, as though he were discussing something trivial and completely impersonal. Marco’s jaw dropped. “I don’t know why, I was just told to watch you and report what you do, but honestly I don’t think I have a reason to, you’re way too fuckin’ nice, plus Brandt is a jerk.”

Wait, Brandt? Why was Brandt watching _him_ of all people?

“Why would Brandt want to watch me?” Marco said, letting the question on his mind tumble from his mouth.

“Like I said, I don’t know, he just called me in last this morning and told me to watch you, it was really weird.  There was another guy there too, the one that’s always following him around nowadays, he didn’t say anything though.”

So Jean knew too… What else was he keeping from him? First there was his whole situation with Brandt, but now he was keeping information about people spying on him from him, and for what possible reason? 

Marco didn’t realize he was shaking until Borris’ thin hand rested on his shoulder in a subtle attempt to calm him. He didn’t know if he felt angry, scared, or just plain betrayed, but in this moment it did not matter. 

“I think I’m going to go talk to Brandt.” Marco said, his statement coming out surprisingly calm in comparison to all of his inner turmoil. Borris looked at him with a look that said he understood.

“Just don’t do anything stupid, Marco.”

 

* * *

 

Brandt’s knee was hard and unforgiving beneath him. Jean was currently squirming uncomfortably from his perch upon the Captain’s lap. He had been sitting like so for about an hour now while Brandt did his usual paperwork and idly stroked Jean’s side with one hand occasionally slipping down low to fondle his clothed bottom. 

The predicament itself would have not been all that uncomfortable if it had not been for the smooth, glass foreign object wedged up inside of him, that which made every slight movement Jean made or any slight bounce of Brandt’s leg a torture for the young officer.

When Jean had walked in early that morning he had not even been given a chance to announce himself before Brandt had ordered him to drop his pants and get on his hands and knees. The abruptness had caught Jean off guard, but he was too used to the predicament to protest and had done as he was told, focusing on the way the smooth, cold wood of the floorboards felt underneath his stiff fingers.

He had accepted what was too happen when he heard the sound of Brandt’s heavy boots making their way behind him. Jean hated it when Brandt fucked him in this position, it made him feel low, like the pet Brandt had taken to claiming him to be. He didn’t know how the man even had energy to go at it so early in the morning.  

Usually their days would start off with doing actual work seeing as Brandt did actually have a job to attend to. The occasional officer would stop by and address Brandt, completely ignoring Jean. It used to bother him how they seemed to look right through him, but now he was glad they did.

The feeling of heavy leather tightening around Jean’s neck came as no surprise to him, it was standard that as long as Jean was in Brandt’s presence it was to be worn.  What did come as a surprise to him was when his entrance was not met with the thick hardness of Brandt’s cock, but instead a cool smooth object that Brandt began inching into him, with slow rotations.

In shock Jean jolted away from the object and snapped his head around. Behind him Brandt had sat holding a thick, clear, mushroom shaped item that seemed to be sculpted from smooth glass. Jean’s eyes bulged out of his head when he realized that that was meant to go inside of him.

“Was that too cold for you?” Brandt asked, speaking for the first time since Jean had entered the room. “I’ll warm you up first don’t worry.”

Jean shuddered, still not pleased about the idea when Brandt’s hands found their way to his ass cheeks, giving them both a tight squeeze before spreading them open to peer at Jean’s hole. Brandt’s hands left him before Jean heard the tell-tale sound of a cap being popped off a jar.

Brandt’s hands were on him once again a few seconds after, one considerably slicker than before.  He used the other hand to grab Jean by the collar before pushing his face to the floor so the boy was now face down ass up.

Large thick fingers were now probing at Jean’s entrance, two of them dipping inside of him at once, not giving Jean enough time to prepare himself for that amount of girth breaching him. Jean let out a low whine as the fingers roughly penetrated him, he supposed it would hurt a lot more if he didn’t do this so often, mixed blessings and all that shit right?

“You like that right?” Brandt said, scissoring his fingers inside of Jean, seeking out that one spot he had grown to know so well, the spot that would have Jean shaking in the palm of his hand. A sharp ‘Oh’ alerted Brandt that he had found the spot as he continued working his fingers over that area. Oh how he loved to see Jean undone.

Jean in the meantime was struggling not to make noise as the fingers pressed on pressed against his prostate not giving him time to breathe.  Unconsciously he had begun thrusting himself against Brandt’s fingers, trying to get more of that feeling deep inside of him. It was no surprise that he was erect by now, small drops of precome dripping from the tip of his dick even though he still hadn’t even been touched there. Was this really what he had come to?

Then the feeling of Brandt’s fingers were gone and replaced with the cold feel of the plug outside his asshole.  Jean couldn’t help but push back against it, missing the fullness Brandt had provided him with.

“Well someone’s eager.” Brandt chuckled. “Don’t worry, you’re going to have a long time to get acquainted with this.”

With that Brandt began pushing the plug into Jean. At first it wasn’t so pad, but it had a steep taper, and the farther it was pushed into Jean the wider it got.  Jean cursed as it reached its widest point, tears pricking at his eyes. It was so painful, but somehow he couldn’t deny the burn and stretch made him incredibly aroused, until finally he pushed back, allowing the widest part of the butt plug to slip inside him, leaving only the flared base outside.  Jean practically screamed, his eyes teary and mouth hanging open from the exertion.

Jean groaned in confusion when Brandt began pulling his pants back on him.

“Stand.”

_What?_

A sharp kick to his side.

“I said stand.”

Shakily Jean made his way to his feet, the plug shifting around inside of him, insistently pressing on his prostate, and the feeling almost made Jean fall to the floor again. Luckily, he was able to make himself stand with pure willpower.

“Sit.” Brandt said, gesturing to his lap, where he currently sat back in his office chair.

 

* * *

 

And that was how Jean currently found himself in this situation.  Sitting in Brandt’s lap with a hard on that just wouldn’t quit and a butt plug shoved up his ass.  They had fallen into silence as the minutes ticked by and Jean was left to focus on nothing but the plug inside of him that was only pushed in deeper by gravity and Brandt’s leg. Because of this Jean nearly screamed when there was a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Brandt said loudly enough to be heard from outside the door. Panicked Jean attempted to stand from his superiors lap, but was thwarted in his attempts with a slight tug to his midsection causing him to fall back on Brandt’s knee, his eyes snapping open and face flushing red as the blug was seated even more firmly within him.

At the door stood a skinny, pale, blonde officer with a look on his face that said he’s rather be anywhere else. Jean didn’t blame him. The soldier merely hovered by the door as though not sure if he should just try and run out of the room before Brandt spoke to him. Jean’s eyes locked with his for a moment before Jean looked away, embarrassed by the prospect of what he must look like. When he looked back the officer was looking right through him. Good.

“Bloch.” Brandt said, addressing the new entry. That seemed to snap him to attention. The blonde man immediately straightened his back and saluted, suddenly looking like a hardened soldier rather than a scared rodent. The transformation was unsettling.

“I was informed you wished to speak with me, sir.” Bloch said, voice clear and steady, not at all nervous as Jean had presumed it would be.

“As you know, recently there has been a large reassignment with the teams due to several of our older squad leaders retiring while a few new ones are taking over.” The blonde soldier nodded in confirmation. “Because of this many of the squads are being rearranged.  I called you here to inform you about your new partner.  I’m aware that you are no longer on my squad, Bloch, however if you do me this favor I can help you achieve many things your new captain cannot.”

“What is the favor?” Bloch asked, his expression never changing from the neutral one he had adorned the moment he had started speaking.

“I want you to keep an eye on your new teammate. His name is Marco Bodt.”

Jean swore he felt his heart plummet into his guts.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Borris, you only exist as a plot device. 
> 
> Hey guys, sorry for taking so long to update. I have no excuses. Leave comments. Motivate my lazy ass.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confrontation in the worst of ways.

In all of Marco’s apparent rage he thought that he would have been more prepared to stand face to face with his antagonist when he had stormed into Sheryl’s office to deliver his report before he had planned to go confront Brandt.

What he had not expected was Brandt casually leaning on Captain Sheryl’s desk apparently in mid conversation.  He froze in his tracks as both heads turned to face where he had barged in.

“Bodt.” Sheryl addressed. “What is so important that you had to slam my door open unannounced while I was in a meeting.”

Marco’s rage immediately dwindled, looking at the obviously very pissed captain. He immediately saluted, the abruptness causing his boots to squeak on the wooden floor.  He could see Brandt smirking, clearly amused by the situation.

“Now, now, calm down Sheryl, I’m sure the boy has something _very_ important to say.” Brandt said in a mocking voice. It was that smugness that rekindled Marco’s fire.  This man knew exactly why Marco was angry and he obviously did not give a damn.

“I need to speak with Captain Brandt.” Marco practically snarled, even surprising himself with the animosity his voice held.

“What is-“Sheryl began, clearly not amused with the exchange that was clearly happening over her head.  She was by no means oblivious to the challenge the two men in the room were engaged in.

“That he does.” Brandt said, cutting Sheryl off. Sheryl’s eyes narrowed further, going back and forth from Brandt to Marco.

“Whatever idiotic, testosterone fueled engagement you two need to have by all means have it, but I refuse to let you two have it in my office.” Sheryl said, now glaring at Brandt. “Bodt, you will report to me as soon as this is through, and don’t you dare think you are getting away with scratching my door when you oh so graciously barreled into it.”

Marco hadn’t even noticed that he had pushed that hard when he entered, his rage adled mind impairing his ability to really comprehend what the female captain was saying to him. All that mattered right now was the enemy he was facing.

Casually, Brandt pushed himself off of Sheryl’s desk and brushed his way past Marco, exiting the office before Marco turned on his heel to follow wherever Brandt was headed.

About halfway down the hall Brandt stopped walking before turning to face the freckled soldier, his figure suddenly incredibly imposing as he loomed over the smaller man.

“Well, what do ya know, you caught me.” Brandt said, surprising Marco with his immediate unprompted admittance. “I should have known that Borris kid wouldn’t keep a secret, he’s never liked me much… But then again I never really expected him to keep it a secret.”

“Why.” Marco ground out, his mind reeling. Brandt had wanted Marco to find out, but why? Why had he gone through such lengths to make Marco confront him? He had power why didn’t he just summon him to his office like he always did with Jean?

“Why am I watching you? Well, because you are important to me, especially now that you are, ahem, fully functional again.” Brandt said, the offhanded jab at Marco’s previous injury sent another pang of anger through Marco, now joined by confusion as to what Brandt was saying.

“What possible importance could I have to you? I’m not even on your squad, hell this is the first time you’ve said a word to me.” Marco spat.

“Well,” Brandt said, pausing to ring his hands in front of him in a mock show of uncertainty. “You want something that belongs to me, and quite frankly I’m not okay with that.”

“Something tha-“ _Jean_ , Marco thought. How dare he. “Jean doesn’t belong to you.”

“So you do want him?” Shit, Marco had fallen into Brandt’s trap beautifully.

“He’ll be so distressed to hear that. After all he was the one who asked me to keep an eye on you, he says you’ve been acting very strange lately.”

“Of course I’ve been acting strange when he’s so obviously not okay, and you’re just using fear to control him!” Marco practically screamed, wanting desperately to believe what he was saying. Brandt was using Jean, there was no way Jean would willingly…

“Oh, has Jean ever expressed his fears to you Bodt? I think that’s awfully strange seeing as he was the one who came to me in the first place.” Marco felt his heart skip a beat. “Jean hates police work, he said he’d do anything as an alternative so he could climb the ladder, even if it meant riding my dick like the horny little slut he is.”

Marco felt as though a knot had lodged itself in his throat as he stuttered. “The-then why is Jean behaving…”

“Maybe I’m not the one Jean is afraid of.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jean awoke to the scent of alcohol and warm breath against his cheek.  He nearly hit his head against the metal frame of his bed when he lurched backwards to escape the body that was hovering over his.  

“Jean.” a breathless voice spoke over him.

“Marco?” Jean relaxed, it was just Marco, but why was Marco in his bed? “Are you drunk, dude?”

The heavy smell of whiskey in the air was enough to answer Jean’s question as Marco made no move to answer.

“I think you’re in the wrong bed.” Jean said, now not as at ease due to Marco’s silence. 

“Do you really care if another man is in your bed?” Jean flinched, dread welling up inside of him. Marco knew, there was no other explanation.

A hand crept up to Jean’s cheek. He could just make out Marco’s face in the darkness, his eyes still adjusting. The expression he was met with was not comforting.

“Get off.” Jean said, pushing at Marco’s shoulders, but Marco refused to budge. The difference in their bulk suddenly becoming apparent to Jean. 

"Are you scared?"

Jean gasped when his wrists were abruptly ripped from Marco’s shoulders and pinned above his head. This scene had played out before and the reality of the situation was falling on Jean fast.

“Marco!” Jean cried out, trying to bring his friend back as he attempted to pull free. The trapped officer froze when he felt a hand snaking up his shirt and a wet kiss on his neck, setting his nerve endings off like tiny sirens that this was indeed happening.

“Tell me Jean, why do you let Brandt touch you like this?” Marco breathed hotly into Jean’s ear. The whiskey on Marco’s breath only made Jean want to puke more than he already did.

“I-I don’t!” Jean’s breath hitched when the hand that had been roaming his chest made its way down to beneath his pajama bottoms and began pawing at his dick. This could not be happening, this- this was Marco for crying out loud.

“You’re lying to me, Jean.” Marco firmly stated. “Do you love him?”

“No, o-of course not!” Jean said, desperately trying to jerk his hips away from Marco’s firm grip as Marco steadily began pumping his hand up and down his length.  

“Then why!?” Marco shouted, his expression contorting into that of rage as he ripped Jean’s pants down, causing the other boy to cry out I shock as he was exposed. “Are you really so selfish that you would abandon everything for the easy life!? Abandon me?!”

“Marco please don’t do this, I-I-“tears were now falling freely from Jean’s eyes as Marco forced his legs apart. It had finally happened, he had lost Marco, the one person he had been trying to protect was lost to him and it was all his fault.  

“If it’s so easy for you to spread your legs for someone who doesn’t give a damn about you then why can’t you answer me?” Marco hissed as he moved to grab at his best friends now exposed bottom, pulling his cheeks apart to forcefully thrust a finger inside causing Jean to let out a cry of pain and horror.

“Please, Marco!” Jean’s voice came out desperate, but did nothing to spurn the other boy’s intentions. Why did it come to this?

“You’re so stupid and confusing, you know that? All day you do nothing but think of yourself and what you have to gain, but in the end I just can’t get you out of my head.”

“Marco, why- why are you doing this, I-I get it if you hate me, but if you hate me this much why can’t you just k-ill me?” Jean sobbed. It was true, he would rather die than lose his best friend like this. Marco had been the last good thing left in Jean’s tiny world.

Jean’s question snapped Marco out of his tirade. His grip still tight on Jean’s wrists, a blanket of silence fell over the pair.

“You mess me up so bad.” Marco spoke, voice permeating the darkness, suddenly sounding small and fragile in Jean’s ears. Jean gasped when he felt a tear that was not his own land on his face. For the first time Jean saw Marco’s real emotions breaking through. His expression was that of fear and sorrow. “I could never hate you…”

“Marco, why are you crying?” Jean whispered, his voice cracking.  

Marco didn’t say anything more as he released Jean’s wrists and ran out of the bunk, only leaving an echo of a slammed door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> Hit me up with some commentary so we can be sad together.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Both boys are breaking.

Marco’s world spun as he wretched into the toilet for the third time that morning.  The acidic smell of his own bile doing nothing for his condition. Oh God he had messed up.  His memories of the night prior were mostly hazy at best, but there was no way he could forget what he had done, forget the way Jean’s face had looked in the dark as he begged for Marco to stop and what had Marco done? He had kept going, violated his best friends body and trust. 

He was done for, Jean would never forgive him, let alone love him, and Marco had to admit he probably deserved it.  He had lost control of himself last night, unleashed everything he had been keeping down for so long in the worst of ways. Marco couldn't even blame the alcohol, he knew that it was what he had really been wanting, but was in denial about it this whole time. Despicable, he thought.

The hard bathroom tile was cold against his knees and they had begun to ache some time ago, but still he had been too sick to care and only noticed when he began to right himself, wincing in pain as he did, his joints slowly clicking into place.  It was early, he knew that, people had only just started pulling themselves from their bunks into the halls when he had awoken sitting on the floor in one of the storage closets, not remembering when he had gotten there.

On unsteady legs he made his way out of the bathroom, his head pounded with every step he took, and his stomach churned in a way that made Marco sure that if it wasn't already empty he’d be throwing up again. He needed to lie down, but the thought of Jean still back in their bunk made him even surer that he needed to talk to somebody.

Marco made his way down to the mess hall, still feeling as though he were on unsteady ground, but feeling considerably better than he had when he had first opened his eyes. His prayer for a consultant was answered when he made his way into the mess hall and his eyes fell on the back of Marlowe’s bowl cut seated next Hitch’s sandy brown head.

“Well look at what dying animal the cat dragged in.” Hitch said as Marco made his way over to the pair. 

Marco ignored her in favor of sitting down and turning to Marlowe.

“I wouldn't use Hitch’s wording, but she’s right, you look like you’re about to be ill.” Marlowe said, eyes roaming over Marco, clearly trying to assess his condition.

“Yeah Freckles, you party too hard or something? I didn't think you had it in ya, you smell like a liquor store and vomit.” Hitch commented. Marco hated the fact that she was probably right, there was no way he didn't stink to the high heavens.

“I-I need to talk to you about something.” Marco said. Marlowe’s expression softened at the worried tone in Marco’s voice. He tilted his head to show that he was indeed listening which Marco took as his cue to fire. “I really messed up last night, and I don’t know what to do about it.”

Marlowe raised one eyebrow at Marco’s statement, probably questioning what Marco could have done that was considered bad. Marco could feel Hitch’s eyes boring into the side of his skull like drills attempting to permeate his subconscious and whatever juicy details lay there, God he wished she wasn't there.

“Marco, you’re going to need to elaborate more.” Marlowe said after a moment of silence. Marco should have realized that being as vague as possible would not work out in the long run, but he still worried how Hitch and Marlowe would react to him coming clean. His mouth seemed to go dry as Marco attempted to find how to admit to his actions, the words turning to dust in his mouth and only making his palate feel all the more dirty.

“Yeah, we’re going to need the deets.” Came Hitch’s condescending voice, “What’s the worst one of you golden boys could have done. Did ya steal something? Or maybe ya peeped in on the girls showers, you naughty boy, you.”

Hitch’s snorts of laughter did nothing for Marco’s nerves. He attempted to block the verbal jabs out and only focus on Marlowe in front of him, but the more he tried the more she got to him. Was that really the worst thing she thought him capable of? Was that really all everyone saw in him? Not this twisted monster fueled by rage and jealousy he had become.

In that moment Marco saw red. He saw himself reaching towards Hitch, his hands grasping at the front of her blouse and pulling her forward with strength he had not even known he possessed. His grip choked the air from her lungs causing her smile to fall and her eyes to widen in fear when her thin fingers scrambled at Marco’s in useless attempts to break free.

Her shrill screams were cut short as Marco made short work of standing from where he sat and raising her above the ground where her feet kicked wildly in the air.  He looked at her, his breath heavy, her face was scared, and it only reminded him of what he had done the night prior so similar to the expression Jean had worn, this was a plea for mercy, and suddenly it’s not Hitch he’s holding, her jaw was too square, her shoulders were too broad, and Marco just couldn’t take it anymore when he threw Jean head first into the floor, a pool of red slowly seeping out from beneath him like an ungodly halo.

“Marco?”

Marco jolted out of his stupor. He frantically looked around, his eyes landing on Hitch’s confused expression from where he sat across from her, his arm partially outstretched towards her. He looked at the floor, no bleeding Jean. Okay, good. He swallowed and withdrew his arm, quickly trying to push down what his fantasy meant.

“Sorry I just… I’m not feeling too well, I should go.” Marco quickly stood up to leave, his equilibrium slightly off as he took his first step forward, his vision shifted when a hand tugged lightly on his wrist. He looked down to see Marlowe’s concerned expression. He felt a light squeeze of reassurance and then the hand was gone.

 

* * *

 

Jean curled in on himself when he heard the telltale knocking on his door. He was late and he knew it.  He had spent the entire night sitting in a stupor when Marco had left. He hadn’t cried anymore nor had he mulled over what any of it meant, he had just accepted that Marco was gone and felt nothing.  The static had almost felt calming to him as he had sat there with his eyes wide open, it had felt as though for the first time in forever he could relax and simply exist in a world of nothing.

Now however he was being cruelly wrenched from his world and everything felt as though it was crashing down on him, falling heavy on his shoulders and back, depriving him of air. He didn’t realize that he had started hyperventilating till the knocks on the door came again, this time sharper.

“What do you want?” Jean shouted, his voice came out cracked and rough from lack of use, but he hardly cared.

“Captain Brandt would like to see you in his office immediately.” Came the muffled reply of a voice Jean had never heard before from beyond the wooden door. Of course. He really hadn’t expected anything otherwise, but there was still that sliver of hope in him that prayed that he be given the day off, that Brandt would forget about him and move on, but that was impossible.

“No. Tell him I’m not coming.” Jean said, his voice scraping at the inside of his throat, but still firm with determination. He wasn’t going to go through with it again, he was going to end it all today. Even if it felt as though he were up against a God he would not go back.

The retreating footsteps did little for Jean’s peace as he sat there, knees to his chest, tense and waiting. What he did not expect to hear was the sound of a key scraping against the lock to his door. The gentle click of the door coming open had never been quite so loud, as it was quickly followed by the shadow of a large man in the doorway.  

“Stand.”

Jean shook his head in defiance.

“It’s over. I’m not doing this anymore.” Jean said, his voice steady and full on conviction.  He wouldn’t go back without a fight, death would be a better alternative.

“And _what_ exactly makes you think you have the _right_ to tell me no?” Brandt said. His tone was eerily calm, not angry, not mocking, just strangely devoid of emotion. “Don’t forget that I own you, all of this” Brandt gestured to the room around Jean, “Is thanks to me, you spoiled pig.”  

“You don’t own me.” Jean growled. “I don’t care what you do, dishonorably discharge me, throw me out in the street, anything is better than living like this.” 

“You really are a spoiled little kid.” Brandt said, coming forward, the door clicking shut behind him, sealing off Jean’s one mean of escape. “You don’t know just how _lucky_ you are to be in my service do you?”

Jean didn’t have time to scream when he felt a hand at the back of his neck before he was sent barreling off of his bed onto the floor, his head making a loud thump as it hit.

“And what about your little friend that you've worked so hard to protect? Are you really just going to abandon him?” the mention of Marco made Jean’s gut twist. Protect Marco? What was the point, he couldn’t even protect himself, let alone a guy who probably hated his very existence.

Jean shook his head again, words failing him. A boot descended from above, pressing into the back of his skull with enormous pressure. Jean thought surely his nose would break if Brandt pressed any harder before the pressure was suddenly gone, Jean quickly turned his head in relief only to be met with that same boot striking him in the face.

“Well? Are you going to admit that you owe everything to me? Your position, your lifestyle, your fucking safety? I’m what’s keeping you alive you ungrateful animal.” Brandt barked. Wrong. Jean thought all of it was wrong.

“You…” Jean began, his voice sounding muffled in his own ears reverberating through the floorboards as Jean spoke, the side of his face still pressed to the floor. “You… think I should be grateful to you? Because of you I-I…”

“I-I-I, What? Spit it out, boy.”

“I have nothing left because of you! You’ve taken everything away from me! My pride, my humanity, it’s all worthless because of you! Because of you I’ve lost everything important to me, I’ve even lost Marco!” Jean’s eyes were watering and his breath was coming in shallow pants, the things he had been feeling finally poured out of him in a reckless slurry of emotion, but he found there was no lid to it. “Because of you I’m not even a person anymore, I’m just walking around from day to day pretending I’m alive!”

“You’re right, Jean…” That was the last thin Jean expected to hear in retaliation. “You’re not a person anymore, you’re an animal, a toy to be used, prove me wrong and I’ll let you go free, but in the end I’m going to make you accept that that’s who you are and there is no escaping it.”

Jean vaguely recollected a loud thud before his world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wowiwowow, I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, I hit hella writers block, but I'm back now! Please review and comment for our boys.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean wakes up in unfavorable conditions.

Jean awoke to the sound of footsteps walking by him. He slowly blinked his eyes open, squinting at the sudden light, his surrounding blurry and distorted. He tried to look around in his confusion, but was impaired when hit with a sudden wave of nausea when he tried to move his head.  
His limbs felt like lead, joints tight and cramped in whatever position they were in. Struggling to sit up he found that he indeed could not move and that every attempt sent a thump of pain through his skull as if it had taken a heavy impact. Frustrated he let his head fall back into its previous position on the inviting pillow beneath it and let out a groan.

Wait, pillow? He hadn’t been sleeping. Amber eyes snapped open, much more alert this time around as Jean struggled to take in his surroundings, attempting to force them into focus as best as he could. The room around him was unfamiliar, much larger than his own from what his limited vision could gather. Jean began to panic, now trying in earnest to sit up, only now upon closer inspection realizing that he was restrained.

From what he could gather his hands were tethered to his ankles, forcing his knees to bend in order to accommodate the shorter length of his arms. Fuck, Jean didn’t know what was going on, but he was becoming increasingly more freaked as he tugged at the straps that kept his limbs in place. Concentrated on pulling in earnest to get his hands free Jean did not notice the figure lurking over to the side approach him where he lay.

“Nice to see that you’re awake.” A shady voice sounded just out of Jean’s peripherals.  
Shit.

Jean stopped struggling at once, eyes gazing directly ahead of him trying to piece the situation together. Shit, what was he doing before he had passed out? He vaguely remembered Brandt coming to his room and a lot of screaming. Oh fuck, he was so fucked, he realized as the memories began to come back to him, falling into place as though a puzzle were being pieced together in his mind.

He had defied Brandt, he had said no, he had cried and let go of all of his fury and then- and then what? He couldn’t remember. That must have been the point he had been knocked out. Swallowing, he turned his head and glared to the man standing next to him.

“Where am I?” He croaked, almost a whisper. He must have been out longer than he thought if his voice was that damaged. Or maybe it was all the crying before that. Who knew, really?

“What this?” Brandt said, gesturing idly to his surroundings, “These are my private quarters, or your new home if you prefer to reference it as such. You know, I was actually starting to worry I had given you brain damage or something silly like that, you’ve been out for quite some time.”

His new home? Jean was mortified by the implication, no way in hell could this bastard do this to him. He didn’t even sound slightly worried that he thought he might have given him brain damage. The damn monster.

“Let me go.” Jean said, his voice wavering as little as he could make possible.

“Oh don’t worry, boy, I will… If I can’t convince you to learn your place that is, and I just know that you will, after all you are an incredibly quick learner.” Brandt said, allowing his fingers to run through Jean’s short hair, before moving down to caress his face in and incredibly creepy motion, in Jean’s opinion.

“No, I said I was done with this!” Jean, shouted, his voice raising in his anger and panic. “Untie me, now!”

“You’re honestly only becoming increasingly annoying right now. You know you’re powerless, but all you do is yell. I don’t think you even really tried to get away, you just wanted to make it look like you were standing up for yourself. In reality it wasn’t your final stand, it was your admittance to defeat.” Brandt sneered, leaning in close to Jean’s face.  
No that was wrong, he was wrong, Jean had tried, he just, he just didn’t know how to go about it, he had acted rashly and was paying the price. Jean swallowed as Brandt’s breath ghosted across his face, giving him the urge to rub his skin raw there as though it had been tainted, and yet he couldn’t even if he tried due to his arms being bound.

“Have a little consolation prize.” Brandt said, a small vile of a pinkish tinged liquid materializing under Jean’s nose in Brandt’s grasp.  
The unknown liquid smelled horribly sweet in Jean’s nostrils, causing him to turn his head away from it almost as soon as he inhaled. The bottle followed his movements insistently pressing against his lips demanding access, but Jean refused, who knew what could be in that thing, best case scenario it was poison.

Brandt was clearly becoming annoyed at the way Jean turned his head to and from in an attempt to escape drinking the liquid, frustrated he grabbed Jean’s nose and pinched it shut.

Still tender from being hit in the face, Jean had to clench his teeth in a fit of pain as to not make any noise when his nose was unceremoniously grasped, but not screaming was one thing, something that was becoming increasingly clear as the seconds ticked by was that he would need to breath sometime and when he did he was sure the contents of the vile would be poured down his throat.

Jean held his breath till he started seeing stars and was quite sure his skin was turning blue, his lungs felt as though they were being crushed under an enormous pressure, he could do this, he could do this, he could- Jean finally relented taking a huge gulp of air through his mouth, lungs expanding in an almost euphoric fashion.

The feeling of sweet air was short lived however as the pink liquid was immediately tipped down his throat causing Jean to choke and cough as it struggled down his unprepared throat. Jean sputtered, regardless of the scent it had omitted the liquid had turned out to be extremely bitter on his tongue, causing him to scrunch up his face in disgust.

“Don’t worry, pet, you’ll start appreciating that more soon enough.” Brandt laughed in response to Jean’s disgusted facial expression.

It was true that soon enough Jean was starting to feel the effects of whatever he had just been force fed, but he was far from appreciative. His breath was coming in short pants and his body began to heat up to the point it felt like there were flames licking his skin, while all Jean could do was let his mouth hang open and squirm in an attempt to alleviate the painful prickle of his own skin.

Once he saw that Jean was lost to the new sensations wrecking his body Brandt wasted no time in getting to work on the boy. He fisted Jean’s barely hard cock and began stroking it at a leisurely pace as he marveled at how quickly it was becoming full mast.

Jean let out a cry that turned into a groan as Brandt stroked him, everywhere the man touched burned, but he couldn’t deny that the sensation of someone else’s skin felt good, almost like a comforting sensation amongst the pain.

Jean was having trouble processing all that was happening to him, lost in pure feeling until Brandt stopped stroking him and Jean felt a pang of need shoot through his very core much to his confused horror.

“Shiiiiit.” Jean hissed out, “What did you do to me?”

Brandt merely gave a shrug. “Surely you know what an aphrodisiac is, pet.”  
Aphro what? Jean had never heard the term before, although he was getting a vague idea of what it was for.

“This particular one hasn’t been used in ages, it used to be given in small doses when there was a fear of humanity dying out behind the walls as a little motivator for procreation. We obviously don’t need it anymore, but it sure is potent, you’re only supposed to take a teaspoon at most and you’ve gone ahead and downed an entire bottle, you greedy boy.”  
Jean’s eyes widened and his whole body began to tremble, surely that couldn’t be safe. Brandt didn’t seem to be worried about potentially killing Jean, but then again the man seemed like a sociopath so who knew.

“What’s going to happen to me?” Jean said between heavy breaths, pulling at his restraints once more.

“You’re going to feel good and you’re going to beg me for my cock.” Brandt said with finality that made Jean want to scream. “That aphrodisiac wasn’t easy to obtain you know, it’s illegal to use anymore since it’s so strong, cost me quite a pretty penny.”

Brandt was right about it being extremely potent, Jean was already being overcome with the urge to touch himself to alleviate the burn coursing throughout his body, only prevented by the restraints that bound his hands to his ankles. Unable to close his legs he could do nothing but allow Brandt to stroke him and fight the urge to thrust his hips as much as the limited range of movement would let him, but he was already failing at that.  
Jean’s eyes glaze over when Brandt trails his fingers down to his twitching entrance, oh God he doesn’t want this and yet…. Jean moans when Brandt’s thick fingers pierce his entrance, stretching him out in a way that Jean almost feels is too much.

“Lookit that, three in one go, you’re just aching for this aren’t you?” Brandt said as he began to thrust his fingers in and out at a rapid pace that Jean just couldn’t stay silent to.

“Stoooop.” Jean cries, the end of his words turned to a breathy moan as Brandt lit up his body with a pleasure that could only be found deep inside. Brandt ignored him and if anything began to thrust faster. Before Jean can even realize it he’s coming around Brandt’s fingers and all over his own chest.

“Wow, I barely even started touching you and you’re already coming? What a whore.” Brandt smirked as he continued thrusting his fingers into Jean’s ass, much to Jean’s dismay.

“It’s too much, stop it.” Jean whimpered, feeling overstimulated.

“Naw, I mean just look you’re already getting hard again.” To Jean’s horror and Brandt’s glee, he was right, Jean was indeed getting hard again.

“I think I’m going to take a break though, so I’ll just leave you here with this.” Brandt said, pulling something out of a drawer to the left of the bed.  
He held the item in front of Jean and Jean through hazy vision had no idea what it could possibly be. It was white, slick and shiny and had a vague T shape with a curve in the stem.

“It’s called a prostate massager,” Jean blinked stupidly and Brandt’s reveal, he had no idea what that was. Brandt seemed to understand Jean had no idea what he had just said so he continued. “It moves naturally with your muscle contractions. Basically it’s going to sit in your ass and keep you coming every few minutes or so and it’s going to drive you crazy.”  
Brandt wasted no time after that hastily shoving his hand and the toy between Jean’s still spread legs which he had been to out of it to even think about closing Brandt began to insert the toy. It was cold and barely pliable as it was inserted into Jean’s ass, causing the boy to shiver as it went in to the hilt.

Jean gasped when it was all the way in, feeling how the toy struck him just right when it was fully seated. Jean wriggled feeling the toy rubbing against his inner walls whenever he made the slightest movement his mouth fell open. He bucked his hips at the pleasure inside him, relishing the way the toy moved until.

“Ah- ahh!” He came again, faster than he thought was even possible, and he fell back to the bed a boneless mess.  
“Now I think I’m going to go get some work done.” Brandt said, grinning at the show as he turned to leave the room.  
Jean panicked, as he saw him turning to go. He didn’t want to be left alone in this state.

“You can’t leave me like this!”  
Brandt seemed almost taken aback by Jean’s cry before he turned around with a grin.

“You know what, you’re right, I completely forgot something.”  
Suddenly something uncomfortably tight is wrapped around the base of Jean’s erection, a metal ring. Jean wants to cry at the sight of it, knowing enough about his own body to know what it’s for.

“This makes it more of a punishment yeah? I’ll take it off later whenever I feel like it…. Unless you want to beg me of course.”  
As much as Jean dreaded this, he was still fighting to retain his last shreds of pride, he turned his head away, biting his lip as he felt his insides beginning to stir with arousal once more.

“Don’t worry about it, pet, all in due time.” Brandt cooed into his ear. “I hope you have fun.”

And with that Brandt walked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Jean.
> 
> Poor baby Jean does not even know what a prostate is. 
> 
> ANYWAY, yes hello, I have returned. Sorry this chapter took so long I hit hella writers block with this chapter, which is funny because this is one of the chapters I was looking forwards to to write, but then when I actually got here my brain just blanked. I mean it is kind of just pure smut, but I think that's probably why we're all here in the first place.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is indecisive, Jean is...

Marco let his face fall forwards into his hands and let out an exasperated sigh. Unforgivable, that’s what he was. There was nothing that he could do to take his actions back. Marco considered asking to be transferred back into the lower barracks without Jean and letting Jean keep the room they currently shared as his own as he wandered the halls.

 ‘It’s for the best, Jean doesn’t deserve to have to live with someone as rotten as me.’ he told himself as he made way to his captain’s office. There, he could make the request, but when he reached her door he stood at an impasse.

‘This is the right thing to do’ echoed at the forefront of his mind, and yet he still couldn’t bring himself to knock. Instead he stood at the door, which never appeared as imposing as it appeared right now.

With this he could end it all, sure he and Jean would still be in the military police, but they never saw each other outside of their bunk. Like this Marco could cut ties completely and forget that Jean was in the military police altogether. He could serve the king and help the people on his patrols as he had originally intended without the selfishness and ache Jean caused to bloom in his heart.

It felt wrong. Marco did not want to leave Jean, he wanted to see the other boy’s smiling face and laugh with him again. He furrowed his brow, that would never happen again, he was sure, but still he didn’t want to go.

He didn’t know what he could possibly say to Jean to make the situation any better.  Maybe he could apologize and blame his actions on the alcohol, after all he rarely ever drank and it had been his first time to the pub.

 Marco stood there trying to decide on the best course of action, it was what he wanted versus what was best for Jean. When he put it like that there was no question to what he should do. Marco silently berated himself for thinking selfishly again as he raised his hand to knock on the polished wood before him.

He never got the chance. Instead he got an extreme close up of the door he had been staring at a millisecond beforehand as it swung open and smacked him in the face. The impact sent him reeling to the floor where he landed harshly on his backside all thoughts cast aside as he let out an embarrassing yelp.

“What the-“

Looking up, Marco was greeted with the surprised face of his captain, barely visible over the large stack of paperwork she was holding.

“Bodt?” Sheryl’s surprised face quickly turned to her usual stern glower as she realized exactly what she had hit when she had, from the looks of it, kicked her door open.

“Captain Heitman!” Marco practically shouted as he scrambled to get to his feet and salute her.

“At ease.” The captain said, her eyes narrowing as she watched Marco’s attempt to collect himself.

“I’m sorry- I just, I didn’t mean to get in your way, ma’am and I-” The freckled soldier stuttered under the scrutiny of the captain.

“Doesn’t matter.” Sheryl said, cutting him off before he could make an even bigger fool of himself. “What does matter is that you tell me why you’re here and that you do it quickly because _I_ have a gigantic oaf to tell off.”

Right, the reason he was here in the first place.

_‘I want a transfer.’_

“I- I can help you carry those if you want.” He said, gesturing towards the tower of paper work that practically obscured the small woman’s face. _‘Idiot’_.

Sheryl raised her eyebrows at him skeptically, looking him over as if she were trying to analyze what was wrong with him before shrugging.

“Fine, suit yourself. You can deliver them for me.” She said dropping the load of paperwork into Marco’s open palms causing him to lean forwards and almost drop the huge stack which turned out to be a lot heavier than he had anticipated. “And I don’t know what’s wrong with you right now or what you did, but whatever it is you need to deal with it.”

“How did you-?” Marco asked slightly taken aback.

“You’ve got a guilty look on your face. It doesn’t suit you.” Sheryl said, turning to go back into her office.

“Wait! Where am I supposed to take these?” Marco called after her over the paperwork as she began closing the door.

“Take them to Brandt and tell him I’m not doing his goddamn paperwork for him and that he’s an ass for thinking he could just send it here and I’d deal with it. Either that or you can lose it, it’ll be his problem. Either way just make sure he knows I say ‘Fuck you’.

* * *

 

“Fffuuck.” Jean drooled. He twisted back and forth trying to relieve some of the pressure. He had been lying there for what seemed like an eternity before Brandt had finally come back.

 “It hurts, it hurts.” He repeated breathily, almost a whisper. It really did hurt, there was an undeniable ache in his nether regions, a result of being denied release for so long.

“What was that?” Brandt said, lazily dragging his fingers up Jean’s swollen shaft causing Jean to hiss and arch his back in response. Every touch brought him closer and closer to the release he was being denied. Every bit of pleasure caused from moving the toy inside of him was equally as painful as it was pleasurable. 

“It hurts!” Jean squealed, tears gushing from his eyes and drool escaping the side of his mouth. He couldn’t think anymore, the only thing he could focus on was the burning inside of him. “It hurts, it hurts! _Please!_ ”

“Please what, boy?” Brandt asked, coyly, clearly enjoying the show.

“I need to come, please I need to come!”

“Ehhhh, try again.” Brandt said, grabbing the end of the prostate massager and pushing it in deeper into Jean’s twitching hole.

“No more, please I can’t- I- I don’t want anymore!”

He loved to see the boy like this, barely able to form coherent sentences through his screams and moaning, completely lost to instinct, and reduced to the animalistic urges he had barely known anything about a short time ago. Brandt could see the boy breaking, he only had to give one more small push before he shattered.

“That’s not what I can do, tell me what can I _do_ for you, Jean?”

“Ffuuuck!”

“That’s it, you’re getting warmer.” Almost there.

“Fuck me! Fuck, fuck, fuck, PLEASE!” There it was. “I need it- I- I need you inside, just make it stop!

“Well if you insist.” Brandt said triumphantly.   

And with that Jean’s world was turned upside down as Brandt flipped him over so his knees were beneath him and his chest laid flat on the mattress.

Jean keened when he felt the toy inside of him slowly being removed, suddenly feeling uncomfortably empty after having it in for so long. It only lasted for a moment though for in the next Brandt was already spreading his cheeks with his large, meaty hands as he penetrated the boy below him with his thick cock.

Jean’s head flew back and eyes snapped open at the new, much thicker intrusion. His mouth opened to scream, but he was impeded from doing so when Brandt grabbed him by his short locks of hair and slammed his face down into the mattress, effectively muffling him before he yanked his head back up so Jean’s back was arched into a C as he fucked him.

“Take it off!” Jean cried out, voice shaking due to the rate of Brandt’s thrusts from behind, each one sending a jolt of fire through him. “The ring, take it off, let me cum!”

Brandt stilled inside Jean, seeming to ponder the request. “Hmmm, nah.”

“But- but you said-“Jean said, voice cracking.

“I didn’t say anything. You asked me to fuck you and I obliged.” Brandt grinned twistedly as he began to continue his assault on Jean’s hole. “Unless you’ve got a better offer for me.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I won’t ever say no again, so please!”

 _“Go on.”_ Brandt said breathily as he increased his speed.

“I’ll do whatever- whatever you want- hnn, I can be your slave, your pet, your personal fucking cock sleeve! I can’t do more I– I’m gonna die!”

Jean really did feel like he was going to die, he couldn’t do anymore, there was no way. He was completely taken off guard when Brandt reached down and undid the clasp on the cock ring with a whisper of “Good Boy.”

“FUCK!” Jean screamed as his orgasm hit him harder than any Titan could. His vision went white, eyes rolling back as he shuddered and finally released all he had been holding for the past couple of hours, crying out the entire time.

Meanwhile Brandt picked up the pace of his thrusts, fucking Jean through his orgasm, the constant clenching of the young soldier’s ass setting off his own orgasm, his release filling Jean up to the brim just as Jean was coming down and collapsing due to his own

Brandt pulled out quickly causing Jean to let out a quiet whimper into the sheets. Curiously, Brandt rolled him over to look at his face only to find that the boy had indeed gone unconscious. He shrugged and pulled his own pants back up before cutting Jean’s bindings off as they would be useless from now on.

Instead he fastened Jean’s collar even tighter around his neck and attached a silver chain leash, long enough to move a few feet away from the bed, but not long enough to get near the door. He then fastened it to the headboard, making sure it was firmly locked in place.

_‘Perfect.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoy hurting characters I love. Is that so wrong? 
> 
> I give up on giving excuses as to why I'm so late. Work and class and all that jazz can only account for so much. Aside from that I kind of want to incorporate more Sheryl in this because I like her character, but I also don't really want to shift the focus onto OCs too much although I feel like they are necessary due to the fact we barely know anyone in the MP. 
> 
> ANYWAY, once again, thanks for reading and please comment!


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marlowe just wants to keep the peace, surprisingly so does Hitch.

The pages did not scatter gracefully to the wind as Marco had originally anticipated. Instead they fell with a loud thud, accompanied by several yelps of surprise, bursting out in every which direction upon impact with the ground a story below him.

 “What the fuck man?” came as a shrill shriek came from beneath the window ledge he stood at. Looking down he recognized the speaker as the same sandy blonde he had come to truly dislike over the past couple of days, accompanied by the valiant mushroom headed soldier that usually trailed behind her.

Marco stuck his head out of the window and waved apologetically as Hitch struggled to calm the horse she had been leading outside and Marlowe struggled back onto his feet, as he had presumably fallen on his face in an attempt to dodge roll out of the way of the incoming office work projectiles Marco had unknowingly bestowed on the pair.

“Sorry!” Marco called out the open window, drawing their attention to him. He shuffled his feet at the glare Hitch gave him before she was distracted once again by the still unsettled horse knocking its head into her shoulder, causing her to grunt and stumble.

Marlowe on the other hand, now back on his feet, waved to him as he bent down and retrieved several of the pages that had lightly drifted in his direction as though they were asking to be caught and hadn’t just caused the soldier to risk serious facial injuries.

Marco could see Marlowe’s face twisting in confusion as he observed what he was holding before he turned his face back to Marco with a questioning look in his eyes, and then turning to Hitch and saying something indistinguishable to Marco’s ears.

Marco’s face flushed red, he didn’t want to deal with them questioning him right now. Yeah, so what he had thrown supposedly important paperwork and plans that didn’t belong to him out the window, he was pissed and honestly, never wanted to see Brandt again, was that so hard for people to understand? It wasn’t his fault that fate seemed to be trying to push him into another collision with the man that he so desperately wanted to avoid. Anyone would do something stupid and throw a tantrum over it, right?

“Hey, Marco what-?” Marco turned on his heel away from the window and ran, but not fast enough to avoid seeing the duo below him turn to look at each other before they took off running as well. He didn’t know why he was afraid of confronting them, why he was even running, he just knew that if he faced the right now and let them question him every bit of rage would seep through his teeth and out into the open air, where it would become known that such a horrible monster had been festering inside of him.

He ran aimlessly through the halls of HQ, slowing to a brisk walk when he passed areas crowded with other officers leaning on walls and chatting as though they didn’t have a single care in the world, as though this entire branch wasn’t completely fucked in every sense of the word. Service to the king his ass, all these bastards just wanted to get away with being lazy and doing whatever they wanted, and no one not even the king cared enough to stop them from getting away with it.

The fingers curling around the back of his collar jerked him back, away from his anger, if only for a moment. He turned to see Hitch ever so daintily gripping onto him, looking as though she had just run a marathon with Marlowe jogging up behind her in an attempt to catch up.

“You’ve got some ‘splainin’ to do, golden boy.” She wheezed out, the corners of her mouth turning upwards into a predatory grin. “Now tell us, what is your deal? I know you don’t like the guy because he took your precious baby boyfriend away, but that shit could get you into some serious trouble. What if it hadn’t been me and the stooge, you dropped your baggage all over?”

“It- it was just trash…” Marco replied through grit teeth. He didn’t want to have this talk right now, or ever for that matter, especially not with Hitch, the queen bitch.

“Didn’t look like trash to me.” Her eyes sparkled gleefully at his discomfort as her grip tightened.

“Marco-“Marlowe began, speaking to him for the first time “I know you’ve been having some personal issues lately, but this is just petty. You need to talk about what’s going on with you, otherwise you’re never going to feel better-“

Marlowe’s voice faded from his mind. That was the last straw.

“Talk… about my feelings?” Marco hissed, ripping Hitch’s fingers from his collar. “Alright fine let’s talk. Let’s talk about what my ‘ _deal’_ is. Maybe my deal is that you two assholes are following me around, trying to pry answers from me when I _clearly_ do not want to talk about it. Maybe I have a problem with how Brandt fucking took my best friend away from me and ruined him. Maybe I have a problem with how fucked up and selfish I’ve become. Selfish enough that I would hurt my best fucking friend who I fucking love just so he wouldn’t belong to Brandt and now he hates me.”

Everything fell quiet, Hitch and Marlowe just staring at him with wide eyes. The loud conversation of the few other soldiers in the hallway distant to him as they were oblivious to the bomb Marco had dropped on the two in front of him.

“What… did you do?” Marco said, softly.

_I tried to rape him._

He couldn’t bring himself to say it, the words rested dirtily on his tongue, but he couldn’t bring himself to say them.

“I tried-“Marco let out a slow breath. “I tried to make Jean do something he didn’t want to do.”

“No…” This time it came from Hitch. “You didn’t…”

Marco nodded his head furiously, tears welling up in his eyes. “He was crying and- and begging me to stop, but I was so angry and sad and drunk I didn’t listen. I don’t even really remember everything except being so hurt… and then he asked me why I didn’t just kill him… and that scared me because I could never hurt him, right? But, for only a moment I seriously thought about it. I thought about killing my best friend just so someone else couldn’t have him, is that fucked up or what? So I ran away and just left him there.”

“Holy shit… you are so fucked up.”

“I know.” Marco said, letting out a shaky laugh as tears cascaded down his face.

“You love him?” Marlowe asked, softly. Marco nodded the affirmative. He had finally admitted it to himself, it didn’t matter that they knew when it was pointless anyway.

“You need to go back to him, Marco. You need to go talk to him and tell him.”

Marco shook his head, aghast to the idea. “No way in hell, he probably hates me, there’s no way he’ll forgive me.”

“I don’t expect him to, really. He would be insane if he did. But it sounds to me like you have a shit ton you guys haven’t talked about and that isn’t okay, and maybe, just maybe if you guys get this all out in the open you can start trying to fix things.” Marlowe said. Honestly if anyone ever thought Marco was the golden boy they were wrong because it was definitely this man right here. “We can even go with you for support.”

“Or in case he pisses himself when he sees you.” Hitch added flatly, her usual humorous tone abandoned for the moment. “Now come on, let’s go find Pony boy.”

Hitch’s hands felt tense and cold as she interlocked her fingers with his and began lightly, but stubbornly pulling a reluctant Marco down the hall towards the bunks, as if to tell him that he didn’t have a choice in the matter.

 

* * *

 

“You sure he’s here?” Hitch asked as they arrived outside Marco’s shared room, the place he had come to know as home looking ever so strange as he anticipated putting his key in the lock and opening it to find what he had run so scared from.

“If he’s not in here then he’s probably with _Brandt_.” Marco said, Brandt’s name sticky with disdain. 

“Well there’s no way to know unless we open it.” Marlowe piped up from behind as he stepped forwards to turn the knob.

“Hang on I’ve got the key-“ –click- Marco’s search through his pocket’s was cut short when the door effortlessly swung open. Strange. Jean always locked the door. He himself was a little more careless, but if Jean were in there or had left of his own volition it would have definitely been sealed shut.

“Empty.” Hitch said, stepping inside and plopping herself down on Marco’s bed. “I guess he’s off with the captain like ya said.”

“Something’s weird…” Marco said, tentatively as he also entered and looked around.

Jean’s sheets had been haphazardly thrown to the floor in the middle of the small space. He knew that Jean never made his bed and wasn’t the most serene sleeper, but usually they were just hanging over the edge of his bed or crumpled up near the end.

Marco sighed, maybe he had messed him up worse than he thought. He had almost been relieved when the room had been empty, but now he entertained a nagging, ominous feeling. Meanwhile Marlowe had begun picking things up off the floor and arranging them properly on the stripped bed.

“Hey, Marco, has this mark always been here?” Marlowe questioned, after he had picked up a pillow from where it had been tossed. Marco peered over to where Marlowe was looking at the ground. A reddish brown splotch appeared, barely visible on the dark, wooden floorboards. “It almost looks like blood…”

Marco’s breath caught in his throat.

Then he saw red.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I like Hitch and Marlowe a lot actually. They are an ace duo and for some reason I have this image of them dressed as power rangers with Jean and Marco, fighting ridiculously corny villains. So yeah, no Jean in this chapter, as you know he is quite busy, so you get a whole lot of Marco feelings, ya dig?  
> Your comments and feedback feed my writers drive so they would be hella appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco thinks shoving innocent people is the answer. Hitch's tactics are more useful.

Heads turned in alarm at the sound of a door crashing forwards and pummeling into a brick wall, practically splitting the wood.  Marco vaguely registered people staring at him in confusion as he thundered past them with only two thoughts in his mind, A.) Find Jean, B.) Kill Brandt.

Two sets of footsteps hurriedly ran behind him, both sets briefly stopping and squeaking on the polished wooden floor as they dodged obstacles and people standing in their way, starkly different from Marco who had no problem shoving unsuspecting bystanders aside. It was their fault for being in the way anyway, they didn’t care about him or Jean so why should he give two shits about who got their feelings hurt.

“Marco!” Hitch called out behind him in an attempt to salvage his attention. Marco promptly ignored her call. Brandt’s office was barely a few halls away. It was as if the closer his feet took him the more rage swelled in his chest. Only a few more doors to go...

If Marco was physically capable of charging through that door he surely would have knocked if off its hinges, but alas it stood firm as he practically fell over trying to barrel through it. The near blow cleared his mind enough for him to shake his head at his stupidity before briskly grabbing the door knob and jiggling it aggressively as he attempted to pry it open with shaky hands.

“Here.” A smaller hand descended upon his, halting his movements. He looked up to see Hitch looking at him determinedly, with a seriousness he had never before seen in her usually mirthful eyes.

The door opened with a soft click as Hitch softly rotated the knob to the right, her fingers just barely slipping on the cold metal.

Empty. Before them stood Brandt’s desk, devoid of its usual patron and stacked high with paper work as per usual. Marco’s stomach turned. In some ways he felt relieved, relieved that he hadn’t been greeted with a sight similar to what he had seen last time he had peered through this doorway, but if that was the case, where were they?

Marco marched into the center of the room flicking his gaze left and right, making sure there were no hidden occupants outside his peripherals. As it dawned on him that the room was indeed empty, he huffed out in aggravation.

Turning on his heel the freckled soldier attempted to storm out of the room in order to hunt for his goal, but was met by a wall. A wall specifically constructed from Marlowe and Hitch who stood guarding the doorway back out of the office.

“Get out of my way.” Marco growled. Marlowe and Hitch exchanged quick looks before reaffirming their stances, effectively blocking Marco’s exit.

“You need to calm down-“Marlowe began, attempting to sound stern, but clearly he was worn by the chase and quite rattled by Marco’s sudden upturn of behavior.

“Calm down? How am I supposed to calm down when I have no idea where the fuck they are?” Marco said, attempting to stare daggers through Marlowe’s head. From the look of it it was at least making him severely uncomfortable, forcing him to look away from Marco’s face.

“Yeah, you have no idea where the fuck they are, so running around like a raging bull isn’t gonna’ help.” Hitch cut in. Marco redirected his glare towards her, but it seemed to have little to no effect on the lanky woman. “Look dumbass, we wanna’ help ya so chill the fuck out for like two seconds so we can try to come up with a plan. We don’t even know if their together, or if that was really blood, maybe somebody had a party foul in your room or some shit.”

“Neither of us drink though…” Marco said blankly, shoulders slightly relaxing.

“Whatever, I’m just saying that for all we know Jean is downstairs eatin’ dinner or some shit.” Hitch said, ignoring Marco’s comment.

“He doesn’t eve-“

“SOOO,” Hitch drawled loudly, cutting off whatever thing Marco was going to say that she deemed to be idiotic. “I propose that we split up and check out different plausible locations where either of those two might be.”

“It’s a better plan then stampeding through HQ and possibly getting in trouble for it.” Marlowe nodded. “Look, I’ll check out the training grounds and mess hall. Hitch can ask around inside and you can look around the stables and storage sheds outside. It’d be good to get outside and clear your head anyway.”

“Fine, but if no one’s found them by nightfall we’ll meet back in my bunk, got it?” Marco huffed begrudgingly, crossing his arms sternly over his chest. “Now get out of my way.”

Hitch looked to Marlowe once more asking for his judgment. A small nod from Marlowe prompted the two to stand to side of the frame, Hitch’s hands up in a non-threatening gesture before Marco marched past the pair, refusing to spare them a second glance.

“You think he’d be more grateful, huh?” Hitch said under her breath. Marco pretended not to hear.

* * *

 

A loud unapologetic yawn left Hitch’s mouth as she made her way down the halls of HQ. How long had she been doing this, she had no clue, but according to the soft pink glow setting in the windows it was almost time for her to give up.

So far Hitch had come up with nothing in accordance to Horse Face or Brandt.  No one had been able to give her a scrap of information, most people just shrugging. Some clueless as to whom she was even asking them about. She figured as much, Jean wasn’t exactly a highly regarded socialite. Still, she had hoped somebody would have recognized his mug from his frown or stupid haircut.

She had even gone as far to draw a sketch of him, shoving it in people’s faces and asking for his location. It didn’t take long for Hitch to realize that she was probably a terrible artist when people asked her why she was shoving a picture of an angry gremlin in their faces and she trashed the drawing.

Not to say that her day had been completely uneventful, there had been a group of swell young soldiers that implied that they had information on Brandt’s whereabouts, but only for a certain price.  It was upon them dictating the price would involve the woman on her knees that they found themselves face down with a couple broken fingers that they spoke. Turns out they knew jack shit. No one did, no one had seen Brandt since yesterday morning.

Hitch sighed exasperatedly, running a hand through her fluffy locks. Her feet felt like lead from the constant running around. She was just about ready to throw in the towel for the night. Marco could die from exhaustion looking for his friend, but Hitch sure as hell wouldn’t.

She was about to head back to their designated meeting point when she was stopped her tracks by a door slamming forwards and a scrawny boy with gangly arms stumbling out past her.

“And when you see Bodt tell him his ass is in huge trouble!” came a shout from a female voice from the depths of the room.  The small soldier mumbled an affirmative just as the door slammed in his face, causing his mess of hair to blow back from the force.

Bodt? Interesting.

“Oy, you, kid, hang on a sec.” Hitch called out to the boy as he turned to scurry down the hall. The boy faced her raising an eyebrow at the address. “What’s your name?”

“Borris.” The soldier said blankly. God, this kid was weird. He was making direct eye contact with Hitch, but it felt like he was staring right past her. Whatever, as long as he could be useful what did it matter?

“How do ya know Golden Boy?” Borris’ face remained devoid of any expression. “I mean Bodt, uh Marco Bodt. How do you know him?”

“He’s supposed to be my patrol partner, but he didn’t show up for patrol or report.” Borris deadpanned, not sounding the least bit upset about the fact he had been abandoned and screwed over because of it. Definitely a weird guy Hitch concluded.

“Well that’s great that you know him cuz’ I was hoping you could help me out and he’s been having some trouble today.” Hitch said, attempting to brushoff his weird demeanor.  

“Is this about the Brandt thing?” Borris sniffled out. Hitch’s eyes widened in shock at the weird soldier’s question. “He was upset about it earlier, he didn’t really tell me the details, but I figured he fucked something up with the way he was acting. Brant’s an asshole, but you can only go so far when you oppose him.”

This guy may be even more useful than Hitch had originally thought.

“What do you mean by that?” Hitch asked, her attention now completely on the other officer. “Do you know anyone who’s opposed him?”

“Yeah, my old partner got pissed at him once so he followed him and let loose a rodent infestation in the guy’s bedroom. Pretty childish if you ask me, but yeah Brandt found out and sent that guy out on a stretcher before placing him under arrest for trespassing.” Borris said, sounding slightly livelier apart from his usual monotone.

“Wait you know where that guy sleeps?” The corners of Hitch’s mouth curved back into a catlike grin at the nod the boy gave her.

* * *

 

Hitch attempted to calm her nerves as her heavy boots made clonking noises with every step she took up the stone staircase.  She had never been in this part of the building before due to her status as an officer, but this is where Borris had indicated she go in order to find Brandt’s sleeping quarters.

She would never have called herself a coward, but she could admit to herself that trekking into this forbidden territory filled her with much more anxiety than the thought of any titan stuck outside the walls. Maybe this is how those Survey Corp. idiots felt when they went outside the walls. She shook her head, she doubted it. Everyone should be downstairs eating right now, she would be fine.

The door leading out of the stairway weighed more than she anticipated. The unoiled hinges let out a piercing creak as she hid her slim body behind the door while using her weight to push it forwards so she could peer past it.

She was met with a thankfully empty hallway. Not sure of what her attack plan would have been had someone been there, slam the door shut and run maybe? This was a terrible plan in the first place, so why not have a terrible plan B as well?  

Unlike the floors the foot soldiers slept on this floor was completely devoid of windows, instead it was lit by numerous torches mounted on the walls that gave everything an eerie sort of glow. The doors between quarters were also set much farther apart compared to the paper thin walls they had between bunks where she slept, no noise from rowdy neighbors was getting through the stone walls Hitch was seeing.

Hitch counted doors to herself in her head as she attempted to soundlessly make her way down the seemingly endless hallway. Door number twelve on the right, door number twelve on the right, shit how much space did these assholes really need?

Everything fell silent when she made it to her destination, her feet no longer producing the only sound in the hall. She exhaled, door twelve on the right this was it. Hitch was just about to go for the door knob when a soft noise from the other side caused her to hesitate.

From the other side of the door Hitch could make out a sob, definitely a boy, fuck.

Suddenly she was scrambling at the door knob, only to find it locked as she continued to struggle with it. Shit. Maybe she could pick the lock with a pin or something-

The door creaked open. Hitch’s blood ran cold as a large shadow descended upon her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I refuse to abandon this SO here we have another lovely chapter of everything sucks for these poor characters. Also, Jean returns in the next chapter, I promise. 
> 
> Up until now this story has been from Marco or Jean's point of view, so I was a little tentative to add Hitch, but I felt it was necessary, plus it was tons of fun so I'd like to know how you guys felt about it. 
> 
> Please review and leave comments about what you liked, what you didn't like, or whatever else you would like me to know!


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is trying. Jean is trying.

“Where’s Hitch?” Marco asked impatiently as he jogged up to Marlowe at their designated meeting point.

It was already well past sundown. Marco had kept searching well past the time they had agreed to in hopes that maybe in those last few minutes Jean would pop out of a bush or he’d find Jean stuck in a tree or something.

Unfortunately those minutes had been wasted and he had come up empty handed. No one he had asked had seen Brandt or Jean for the past 24 hours. Marco had begun to feel hopeless, but hey, the more people he asked the more he would narrow it down to the people who knew something so he had kept going.

“She probably never even looked.” Marco huffed angrily when Marlowe shrugged his shoulders. “She probably doesn’t really care.”

“Actually I think she cares a lot.” Marlowe responded, causing Marco to raise a tired eyebrow at him. “Hitch acts like she thinks everyone else is stupid, but I think you and Jean have really grown on her. I actually don’t think I’ve seen her this determined to do anything in a while.”

“Oh yeah, then where is she?” Marco inquired. Marlowe shrugged again. God that was annoying.

“I can’t be sure, but I did see a guy and his buddies walking around with splints all over their fingers when I got back and if that isn’t her work then I don’t really know what is.”

“Why would she break their fingers?” Marco asked, now intrigued and slightly put off.

“Hitch sometimes uses interrogation methods that I can hardly condone…” Marlowe said glancing off to the side. “Anyway, I’m sure she’ll turn up tomorrow at breakfast. Even if she is guilty of quitting there’s no way she’d skip a meal.”

Marco rolled his eyes at Marlowe’s attempt at a joke.

“I know you’re worried about Jean, but you should get some rest. You’ll be much more useful once you’ve rejuvenated your strength than being a walking zombie, hell Jean might even show up again tonight.”

Marco nodded in agreement. He didn’t believe Jean would show up, the whole situation just felt too wrong for it, but Marlowe was right, he needed rest. Marco turned away with a sluggish wave, he would find Jean tomorrow and this whole thing would be over with before he knew it…

 

* * *

 

Hitch was less than prepare to feel the floor vanish from beneath the soles of her boots. Potentially deadly hands grasped at the back of her neck causing her to fall forwards into the open abode.

She caught herself, flinging her arms out in front of her to absorb the rough impact she had with the floor then sprang up using her arms to push her forwards, deeper into the room before she pivoted, newly grounded to see her means of escape closing behind Brandt’s daunting figure.

It felt as though Hitch’s heart were about to gallop right out of her chest as she took in her situation. One, she was caught trespassing, no way out of this one without suffering some sort of penalty. Two, a mountain of a man stood between her and her much needed exit.

Brandt’s eyes glistened watching Hitch’s battle stance tense with every slight movement he made. Hitch stared back at him with fiery eyes, trying to hide out the fear that was currently wracking through her body, fear that she felt he could undoubtedly see.

 A noise to her right brought the pair out of deadlock, she allowed her eyes to dart around the room for the first time she had set foot inside.

The room was dimly lit, but the light was adequate enough to get a basic grasp of her surroundings. The walls were stone as they had been outside and the room was fairly clean. Sparsely furnished the only furniture in the room was an armchair, a mirror hung on the wall, a nightstand, and a bed. A bed that contained the person she had spent the majority of her day looking for.

A split second glance back at Brandt was all Hitch gave before lunging for the bed. Hitch hadn’t known what to expect when she found Jean, but she never would have dreamed of this.

The boy was collared and chained to the bed, with what looked like no room for movement. There were leather cuffs, reminiscent of the 3DMG straps hooked around the backs of Jean’s knees and bringing them up to the bed post. His wrists were similarly bound, but instead of being tied to the bedpost a short chain bound them to the heavy collar around his neck.

Dried blood and tears streaked Jean’s face. It looked like he had been punched in the head repeatedly. A piece of cloth had been tied in his mouth to presumably muffle the screaming. The worst part was when Hitch trailed her eyes down his torso where she took in all the bruises and hickeys, right till she reached his inner thighs: bloody and sticky with seminal fluids. 

Hitch was reaching for the straps that bound Jean’s legs to the bedpost, ready to gnaw through them with her bare teeth, but just as she grabbed for them what felt like a tree trunk flew directly into her abdomen causing her to collapse backwards, her back hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Hacking and coughing on the cold floor Hitch looked up to see that in the minuscule time gap she had gone for Jean, Brandt had crossed the room quickly enough to reach her and slam his gargantuan forearm into her, sending her reeling.

Alright, so rescuing Jean was a no go. Hitch processed, trying to get her air back. If anything she had to escape even if she got out alone she could tell someone and they could come back for Jean-

“You’re not getting out of here.” Brandt cut of Hitch’s train of thought. Goddamn this guy’s smile was even creepier than any of her weirdest grins.

Hitch didn’t respond, instead opting to get back on her feet, eyeing Brandt like a cornered animal eyes a predator.  She ran right, he flinched right, and she ducked left underneath Brandt’s prying grasp and right into his knee. Everything went white in her eyes for a split second, before she resumed consciousness to find herself hanging in Brandt’s grip from the back of her shirt collar like a kitten being held in its mother’s maw.

“Now tell me, what such a pretty little kitty was doing creeping around my doorstep.” Brandt whispered into Hitch’s ear. Hitch shuddered at the tone, but tried to shake it off in favor of relearning how to breathe properly. “It couldn’t be for that filthy mutt lying over there could it?”

If Hitch had reserved every single time she had punched a man in the face for this moment the amount of hits this bastard had coming still wouldn’t be enough to satisfy her.

“Or maybe this kitty wants to join in the fun too.” Brandt said deviously, running one of his hands up the front of Hitch’s shirt. Hitch could hardly believe what this psychopath was implying, but then again why should she be surprised.

“Oi, don’t you dare fucking touch me or him again.” Hitch rasped out. She twisted her body in Brandt’s hold to the right as much as she could, her arms reaching out for the nearest thing she could grab purchase to- the hanging mirror.

In almost no time, she had grasped the heavy wall ornament and had swung back around to send it flying into Brandt’s face. Or at least she would have if Brandt hadn’t thrown her to the floor at the last second, causing the mirror to go spinning out of her grip and into the opposite wall where it shattered into an explosion of sparkling shards.

Hitch’s head collided first this time. Everything went blurry, and she barely processed Brandt cursing at her. It was him pulling at her shirt as if to tear it open that brought her back to reality.  

She kicked and screamed obscenities but neither seemed to be working as deterrents. It wasn’t till a second scream, one that was more muffled and almost just as panicked joined in that the scene froze.

Jean sat there with huge eyes staring at the scene in front of him, tears rimming his already red eyes. His breaths came rapidly almost as if he was being the one attacked.

“What’s that boy? You don’t want a new playmate?” Brandt asked, his attention on Jean as still held Hitch down. Jean hastily shook his head no, pupils like pinpricks. “But this one’s kind of cute, you could finally do it with a bitch for once.”

Jean continued to shake his head no closing his eyes tightly trying to shut Brandt out.

“I’ve got it!” Brandt said in a mock moment of realization. “You want to be the bitch!”

Jean shook his head again.

“No? Well then I guess you don’t mind if I use this one too. Unless you want to be my bitch.” Jean’s eyes widened. He stared at Brandt in dismay, pleading for a way out.

“I guess the only way to be sure is if I try it.” Brandt said, beginning to lift Hitch’s shirt up once more, causing a shriek to come from the woman below him. Another muffled scream from Jean.

“What’s that? You do want to be my bitch?” Brandt asked again. Jean nodded his head, tears falling from his eyes, the gag barely muffling his sobs. “I want you to say it.”

Looking confused as to what Brandt meant he sat quietly until Brandt began to get up, dragging hitch along with him in a one armed head lock to which she fruitlessly struggle to get out of. Brandt the effortlessly untied the knot at the back of Jean’s head, causing the spit soaked rag to fall from his lips.

“Say it.” Brandt cooed.                                                                                                              

“I want to be your bitch.” Jean gasped out.

“Is that all you have to say?” Brandt said, his hold around Hitch’s neck tightening.

“I want to be master’s bitch.” Jean tried desperately.

“Hmm, I’m still not convinced you don’t want to share with this one.” Brandt said. Another gargled choking noise from Hitch.

“I want to be master’s bitch I want to be the only one to take master’s cock I want to be fucked by you for the rest of my life, so please-!” Jean practically cried out. Hitch felt like she was going to puke.

“That was nice.” Brandt said releasing his hold on Hitch’s throat. Jean gave a sigh of relief.

Only Jean saw it coming when Brandt’s fist collided into the back of the newly freed Hitch’s head sending her thin body flying into the piles of glass that coated the floor.

Hitch barely had time to register the agony of glass puncturing her hands and the parts of her face that had hit the ground, she was cut off by a heavy boot landing on her face, causing the bits of glass to cut even deeper. The boot was then pulled away only to reappear striking at her midsection.

“If I’m not keeping her, I guess I’ll have to make sure she can’t talk, right bitch?” Brandt chortled malevolently to Jean.

Over and over again Hitch screamed. She thought she could vaguely hear Jean shouting in protest in the background, but she was busy in her own hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly speedier update! I've had so many plot bunnies running through my head, but I refuse to start a new fic before I finish this one so I won't abandon it. If there's one thing I know people can't stand it's abandoned fics. So eyy. 
> 
> I know Jean didn't really do much, but he is back like I promised, so I'm not a liar, yo.
> 
> Your reviews and input are more appreciated than you know, so don't leave me hanging!


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marco is desperate, Hitch is missing.

A loud yawn escaped Marco as he trudged down the stairs to meet Marlowe for breakfast.  He had nary a wink of sleep the last three days Jean had been missing. Dark circles had formed underneath his tired eyes, thoroughly expressing anxiety and restlessness, although it wasn’t as though he actually felt any better than he looked.

He had spent the last three days on a mission to hunt down his friend every chance he got, even going as far as to skip work, even if that meant having to run for cover every time his captain came into sight. Unfortunately at the rate he was going he had slowly started to lose hope of ever tracking him down, especially now since half his search party had gone M.I.A. since day one.  

Honestly Marco thought nothing of Hitch’s disappearance despite Marlowe’s worrying when she didn’t show up for two days in a row. Marlowe tried too hard to be Hitch’s mom when she probably didn’t care about their cause in the first place. It wasn’t exactly anything new for her to get tired of work and not show up to HQ for a while. Besides Marco had more important things to worry about than tracking down a slacker.

The search had so far been completely fruitless, or not to mince words, completely gone to shit. The place was huge and none of the officers had seen Jean or Brandt, whilst the higher ups refused to divulge Brandt’s location. Marco had almost gone ballistic when he had asked and been told that it was none of an underlings business, but had decided it was probably better to keep his job so he could search HQ rather than be arrested for murdering someone.  

When Marco arrived at the mess hall he was greeted by Marlowe, who once again sat alone.  Sitting down without bothering to grab a tray he nodded in response to Marlowe’s grim ‘hello’.  The bowl cut soldier was obviously not doing too well either. If his lack of a grin and quiet voice didn’t express it, the gloomy aura around him did.

“I’m worried something happened to Hitch.” Marlowe stated when Marco proceeded to do nothing to take apart the silence that clung to the air. There he went, talking about his goddamn stray cat of a friend again. She showed up and left as she pleased when it was convenient, but Marco guessed Marlowe just couldn’t understand that.

“She’s fine. We need to worry about Jean.” Marco cut back in hopes of just shutting Marlowe up. God, everything just made him more and more angry.

“She’s never gone away this long without saying anything or someone seeing her.” Marlowe probably only cared about that stupid girl now anyway, what help was he? No one but Marco cared about Jean anymore.

“Look,” Marco said finally done with listening to Marlowe’s shit. “She doesn’t care about you or me or Jean or anybody but herself so could you please just shut up?”

Marlowe’s eyes widened at Marco’s outburst before softening and even going so far as to look slightly hurt. Maybe he finally got it.

“Marco, I get it, you’re stressed and you don’t think anyone else is trying, but I am and I am sure Hitch was trying too. I’ve never seen her get upset over something the way she did when Jean went missing. I don’t think she would abandon this, I’m genuinely worried that she’s in trouble.”

“If you think finding the bitch is more important than fine.” Marco snarled. He in no way expected to his face to explode in pain the millisecond after the words left his mouth.

Clutching his face he fell to the floor in pain, blood oozing out of his most likely broken nose. Through his fingers he saw shoes approaching him.

“WOULD YOU SNAP OUT OF IT ALREADY?” He had never expected Marlowe to yell at him, as a matter of fact he had never thought twice about using him as an emotional punching bag, never expecting any kind of retaliation from the boy. Maybe Hitch had actually taught him something.

Seeing Marlowe’s outrage had guilt pouring through Marco’s veins, he had caused that. Upsetting even the even tempered friendly soldier, all he ever did was make things worse he guessed.

A hand descended on him from above. Was the other soldier going to beat him while he was down? He probably deserved it. Instead the hand hooked itself under his arm and helped hoist him to his feet. Marco looked around slightly dazed, people were staring at him. He figured that that had probably been quite the scene.

He didn’t resist when Marlowe pulled him from the mess hall and into the corridors. Marco inquired as to where they were headed, his voice coming out slightly garbled through the blood steadily trickling down his face. Marlowe curtly informed him that they were headed to the infirmary since Marco’s nose was most likely broken. Judging from what the freckled soldier was feeling it was most definitely broken.

* * *

 

The infirmary smelled like alcohol and death in Marco’s opinion, or he guessed it would if he could actually smell it. Just the air touching his skin reminded him of it. He had truly hated spending time here when he had broken his arm.

A nurse had quickly gone over Marco’s face confirming that he indeed did have a broken nose. She had eyed Marlowe’s bruised knuckles, but Marco assured her that he had had it coming, so she shrugged and proceeded to clean up the blood.

Resetting his nose was the part he had dreaded most. The nurse had done it in a no nonsense manner, giving no note to the high pitch squeal Marco let out when she quickly moved it into place before recommending ice and hurrying away to help with other manners. He vaguely wondered what she was in such a hurry for, they never had any fatal wounds or anything requiring more than one medical expert in the Military Police.

Marlowe helped him stand from his sitting position on the cot, walking him out of the room, but something caught his attention. Marco was jerked by Marlowe’s sudden stop and was about to question the other soldier when he put a finger to his lips, signaling Marco to shut up and listen.

“-girl was a thief! Stealing from Brandt and then assaulting him in his own quarters. It’s her fault that he was injured and is off duty.”

“She was barely breathing though, she only woke up once these past two days. I think we could have kept treating her for at least one more day.”

“Today or tomorrow, she’s still going to be spending the rest of her life in the dungeons whether she dies tonight or years from now.”

Marco’s eyes went wide as saucers listening to the medics bicker. They had to be talking about Hitch, she must have somehow found her way into Brandt’s quarters and gotten attacked. For the second time that morning Marco was overcome with monstrous guilt. He had been so desperate to solely focus on Jean when Hitch had been trying to save him as well and actually paid for it.

He let out a small hiss when he felt Marlowe’s grip on him severely tighten at the words spoken. If he had thought Marlowe had looked pissed this morning there was nothing to rival the burning flames in his eyes right now.

* * *

 

Sneaking into the dungeon was surprisingly easy. One entrance and one guard at night, simple enough. Marco had almost felt guilty knocking out that innocent man, but he had bigger priorities to think about, apologizing to the unconscious man as he dragged him into a nearby bush.

The pair rushed down the stairs, Marlowe taking two at a time to reach the dingy cells below. The dungeon itself barely had any more visibility than the darkness outside, with one torch to light a row of twenty small cells, most of them completely, save for two, one which held a man with a thick beard who only looked at them briefly before turning his gaze back to the brick wall in front of him.  The other cell held an unconscious figure, lifeless on the thin bed. Hitch.

“Hitch.” Marco hissed through the bars, attempting to rouse her. No response.

“Hitch!” He tried a little louder. Still nothing. Shit what were they supposed to do if she didn’t wake up?

“HITCH!”

Marco jumped at Marlowe’s outburst before eyeing him as if he were crazy.

“What? The only guy that could hear that is out like a light.” Marco guessed that was true, he prayed that no one had happened to pass by.

A groan resounded from inside the cell.

“Hitch wake up.” Marlowe said sternly although not nearly as loud as his first call.

“Shut th’fuck up m’ sleepin’.”

“Hitch, please wake up, we need your help.” Marco begged at the groggy woman.

That seemed to get her attention. Slowly she sat up to look at them. Marco struggled not to gasp. Her face was painted with small lacerations, her skin discolored yellow and green from heavy bruising and swelling. One of her eyes remained swollen shut while the rest of her visible skin fared no better than her face.  

“What happened?” Marlowe asked, first to break the tension.

“Brandt… In his quarters...”

“Was Jean there?”

Hitch remained silent.

“Was Jean there?” Marco tried asking again with less patience.

“I…” Hitch’s lips shut into a firm line, unable to finish her sentence she nodded once.

“Is he okay?” Marco asked again more urgently.

More silence. Marco was beginning to grow restless in the silence.

“Hitch answer me, is he okay!?”

Marco was about to go off again at Hitch’s silence when he realized the woman’s shoulders were shaking.

“I couldn’t do anything.” Hitch said, tears streaming down her face. “All I could do was lie there in my own uselessness and watch.”

 “What happened?” Marlowe’s voice came as a stark contrast to Marco’s hurried distressed tone.

“I found Jean. Brandt found me. I tried to fight him and get away with Jean, but I couldn’t win. He had me and he threatened to,” Hitch paused, swallowing air. “To assault me… unless Jean agreed to do whatever he said. Then he beat me, I- I thought I was going to die then, but he stopped right before I was going to go out and he… he did THAT to Jean right in front of me and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. I wasn’t even awake to testify for myself in the end.”

“Please,” Marco said, his voice shaking on the verge of tears himself. “Please tell me where he is.”

“Third floor, west wing. There’s a corridor sealed away that leads to another flight of stairs. It’s the twelfth door on the right.”

“Thank you, I promise we’ll get you out of here too, I’m so sorry for all of this.”

“No hurry, I could use some time off.” Hitch smiled weakly. “Just promise me you’ll get that motherfucker back for me tenfold.”  

* * *

 

Jeans hands and knees were numb from holding this position for so longs. The wooden floors that used to be torment to kneel on now only cold to the touch. His muscles were sore from the punishments he took while his hole was stretched open by the toy Brandt had placed inside him that morning.

“You are doing well, pet.” Brandt grinned, petting Jean roughly on the head causing the metal chain hooked between his collar and the bedpost to jingle. “What's the matter boy, _speak_.”

**_“Woof.”_ **

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS, I CAN EXPLAIN.   
> Okay no I can't, motivating myself to continue this was actually pretty hard since I lost the first half of the chapter somehow and never got back to rewriting it, but here you go, months late and 4 am we've got some plot progression.
> 
> I'm actually pretty excited about writing the next chapter since we're finally going to have Jean and Marco properly in the same damn chapter so it shouldn't take nearly as long. 
> 
> Leave your comments and feedback so I can know if you guys dig it!


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting.

Glazed over eyes starred blearily up at the ceiling. Jean had long since given up wondering when it would end, this is what Brandt had been training him for and this was how it was going to end for him. Nothing more than an animal whose existence was purely to fulfill his master’s demands. The thought of being used solely for this purpose used to be enough to make him want to retch, by the current time it had become his reality and he had done so much worse than just that.  

“Roll over boy.”

Jean complied, feeling the stretch of the plug in his ass as he switched positions. His head swam, protesting the motion. He had only been eating the food Brandt provided for him. At first he had resisted, but eventually succumbed to hunger. He suspected it was drugged. Perhaps something to make him docile after his first days of relentless struggling had pissed Brandt off. ‘Whatever’ he thought, it was better to not be fully coherent for this anyway.

Brandt tugged on the plug just enough to let the wide end of the bulb stretch Jean’s hole before ruthlessly grinding it back inside. Unable to hold himself back Jean let out a long groan in response to the treatment, the chain attached to his collar resonating loudly as it moved with Jean’s quivering body.

“You like that?” Brandt asked with a bemused chuckle as he continued his ministrations.

“Yes master, I love it.” Jean moaned, unable to stop himself from repeating the script that had been literally drilled into him.

Jean was nothing if not a mess when Brandt abruptly stopped touching him. Jean let out a whine of dismay when he felt the captain’s weight leave the bed. In his dazed state he attempted to crawl after his master, only to be stopped by the chain hooking his collar to the headboard.

“I’m sorry pet, I have business to attend to at the moment, don’t worry I’ll be back soon.” Jean had grown to hate Brandt’s absence, it meant he would be bound and made suffer until the return of his master.

As always Brandt retrieved the blindfold from his bedside and fastened it behind Jean’s head with little resistance from his pet. He then fastened the leather half sleeve cuffs that bound Jeans forearms together behind his back. Last but not least he instructed Jean to open his mouth like a good slut before pouring the same sweet liquid he had use to get Jean aroused the first night down the boys throat to make sure he kept him drugged and wanting while he was away.

Jean practically invited the serum into his mouth, sticking his tongue out like a hungry dog waiting for a treat. He had learned the drug made it easier to not think and just do whatever was instructed and even made him feel good. Brandt finished packaging Jean up with a bit gag, ensuring it was tight enough to pin the formers tongue down.

Drool was already pooling in Jean’s mouth when the door clicked shut, Jean allowing the drug to completely overtake his senses.  He was completely unaware as to what was happening when the door to the room was kicked open. 

* * *

 

When Marco had broken into Brandt’s quarters he hadn’t really known what he was expecting to find. His face heat up with what he couldn’t decide was anger or embarrassment when he saw his friend lying on the bed that served as the centerpiece to the room. 

He briskly walked to the bed attempting to get a closer look, the shards of glass that hadn’t been cleaned up and crunched underneath his boots were paid no mind to. A whirl of emotions stirred up inside him when he saw Jean bound there, squirming, completely helpless… anger, sadness, relief, but worst of all guilt and arousal formed. What a despicable person he was.

For a moment he just stood by the bedside not moving, just looking at his best friend who he was unsure had even noticed his presence. Jean was completely hard, his erection stood proud between his bent legs. Looking lower Marco saw the end to something silver sticking out of Jean’s hole, probably what had Jean squirming and letting out tiny whines every few seconds. How large was it? Marco wanted to know.

No that’s not what he was here for, he was here to save Jean, and he had to move before Brandt returned. He had watched him leave and waited for the opportunity to break in, he couldn’t give this up now. With no hesitation he began to toll Jean on his front so he could begin to undo the cuffs.

Jean practically keened when Marco placed his hands on him. Taken aback Marco immediately let go allowing Jean to roll over the rest of the way. Both boys were breathing hard now. Why hadn’t Marco said anything yet? ‘Jean I’m here to rescue you, please forgive me!’ that would work, but…

Experimentally Marco tentatively moved his hand along Jean’s backside, another moan. This wasn’t good. His eyes moved down to the plug, he would have to pull it out anyway right? Jean might not be strong enough to do it himself.

Slowly Marco reached down and firmly gripped the base of the plug and began to pull. The sounds Jean made as the plug widened went straight to Marco’s groin. Marco marveled as Jean’s hole widened and widened until the base of the plug began to emerge, it must have been at least four inches in width and Jean was practically screaming at that point. What if he just put it back inside? What if instead of letting Jean go he just took him as is and he could be his and-

“He’s quite the pretty little slut isn’t he?”

Marco whirled around so hard he swore he could have gotten whiplash. In the doorway stood the infamous captain Brandt. Marco swore he could audibly hear the blood rushing in his ears. He had been so enraptured by Jean he hadn’t noticed the door open and the captain enter.

“It’s okay, he quite likes that.” Brandt said, his cheerful voice thinly veiling a much darker undertone.

“You bastard.” Marco hissed between grit teeth, his rage back full throttle.

“I knew you were coming when I heard about the incident with the guard back at the dungeon, but I expected you to come with your lackey you’ve been running around with. Or is he back with the little pussy cat that got too curious and paid for it?

“I’ll kill you for this. For everything.”

“You can untie him if you want.” Brandt said, taking Marco aback. “I don’t tie him up to keep him here you know.”

With that Brandt tossed a small ring of keys in in Marco’s direction. Marco caught them in his left hand and unwillingly broke eye contact with Brandt moved to unlock Jean’s bindings. He started with the sleeve cuffs, watching Jean’s arms fall loosely to his sides, red with the imprint of the sleeves. He then moved to the collar, but was stopped short by Brandt’s voice.

“Might I recommend you remove the gag next, I’m sure my pet would love to speak to you.” Brandt startled Marco speaking practically directly next to his ear.

Begrudgingly Marco complied, undoing the back of the bit guard. A large gasp escaped from Jean when the gag fell from his lips along with a trail of drool. 

“Pet.” Brandt said with authority. Jean’s head perked up and turned in the direction of the voice, still unable to see due to the blind fold. “Come here.”

“I swear to God Brandt if you touch him-“

“If I touch him then what?” Brandt smiled, revealing a gleaming blade and raising to the unaware Jean’s throat freezing Marco in his tracks. “You aren’t going to do anything, now stay silent.”

Jean leaned into the direction Brandt’s voice was, standing on his hands and knees.

“If you do everything I want you’ll get a treat, can you do that pet?”

Marco almost thought he heard wrong when heard Jean bark his affirmative. A dog, Jean was being treated like a fucking animal by this monster.

“You can use words today, I’m sure our guest would love to hear you.”

“Yes master.” Jean breathed, trying to get closer to the captain, but being held in place by the chain around his neck.

“Good, now spread yourself, like a good whore.” Brandt said sadistically, not breaking eye contact with Marco for a second.

Jean lied himself face down, ass in the air in the center of the bed before reaching back and spreading his cheeks, revealing the end of the plug that Marco had failed to pull out, the head having retreated back into his hole during Marco and Brandt’s exchange.

Marco almost protested when Brandt reached to touch the plug, but had no time to as once Brandt had grabbed the end he firmly and quickly extracted the entire thing in one motion. The cry from Jean arousing both men in the room.

Without the plug Jean’s hole was left gaping open and twitching, leftover come from previous sessions beginning to leak out. Jean’s fingers clenched as he continued to hold himself opening, whimpering at the loss of being full.

“Tell us pet, what do you want?”

The cry from Jean was desperate.

“Please master, please f-fill my slutty hole with your huge cock.” Jean groaned, jutting his ass out even further. Marco was in disbelief.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” Marco raged, resisting the urge to step forward and attack Brandt, knife be damned.

“Gee, I don’t know if you’ve earned my cock.” Brandt said, pointedly ignoring Marco. “Why don’t you ask my friend here?”

“Please, please…” Jean begged turning in the direction he had heard Marco speak.  

“Jean… It’s me, Marco. Snap out of it!” Marco said, horrified by the turn of events.

“Please mister, I can make you feel really good, please give your dick- just wanna be full…” Jean was losing coherency in his sentences by the word this was bad, but Jean dirty talking to him like this was getting Marco hot and bothered.

“How… How badly do you want it?” Marco gulped.

“More than anything, I’ll be your cocksleeve, your fucktoy, anything just-just please!” Jean sounded like he was on the verge of tears.

Marco stepped forward, absolutely nothing about what was going to happen was going to be good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup. I'm awful.   
> Anyway this chapter is totally unbeta'd, as all my chapters are, but this time I don't even have time to reread it before work, so I'll probably dive back in later to fix it. I just feel bad for not updating for months. 
> 
> Comments and reviews are always helpful and appreciated!


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